THE  FLYERS 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


e 


(rivers^ 

c^5 

v^ 


OTHER   BOOKS  BY 
MR.  McCUTCHEON 

NEDRA 

BEVERLY  OF  GRAUSTARK 

THE  DAY  OF  THE  DOG 

THE  PURPLE   PARASOL 

THE    SHERRODS 

GRAUSTARK 
CASTLE  CRANEYCROW 
BREWSTER'S  MILLIONS 

JANE   CABLE 
COWARDICE  COURT 


Anne  Courtenay 


^t  ^^^^        ^ ^^.^^•^^^   __^^^^L  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^__^^^^^^^^^^Z 

THE  FLYERS 


GEORGE  BARR 
MCCUTCHEON 

MutGorqf  "QrauistarK 
"Beverly }  of  Qraustarfc'  etc. 

With  illu&ratiovsby 
^Harrison  risher 
and  decorations  by 


D 


M 
Co 


JS: 


DODD  MEAD  &  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1907 
BY  DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 


Published  March,  1907 
All  rights  rcicr-vcd 


THE    UNIVERSITY    PRESS,   CAMBRIDGE,   U.S. A 


CONr  'EH  3 


CHAP.  PAGE 

I.    THE  FARAWAY  CLUB  I 


II.    THE  FLYERS  CATCH  THE  FLYER  .     29 

III.  THE  MORNING  AFTER  ....     47 

IV.  MRS.  VAN  TRUDER  INTRUDES       .     66 
V.    As  NIGHT  APPROACHES       ...     83 

VI.    THE  ROAD  TO  PARADISE     .     .     .105 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Anne  Courtenay Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

Eleanor  was  still  sitting  .   .   .   stiff  and 

silent 44 

Seated  side  by  side  .   .   .  two  miserable 

partners  in  the  fiasco       ....        86 

Windomshire 102 

"  Hush,  Joe,  I  love  it,"  she  cried     .      .      120 


THE     FLYERS 

CHAPTER    I 

THE    FARAWAY    CLUB 

A  COLD,  thick  drizzle,  blown  by  a 
biting  wind  that  sent  chills  to  the 
marrow,  marred  the  early  spring 
night,  and  kept  indoors  the  few  hardy  mem 
bers  who  had  haunted  the  clubhouse  since 
the  season's  opening  a  week  before.  Not 
more  than  a  dozen  loyal  devotees  to  the 
sports  of  the  open  air  lounged  about  the 
big  clubhouse.  Three  or  four  rangy  young 
women  in  sweaters  and  jackets  strove  bravely 
to  dispel  the  gloom  of  the  night  as  it  settled 
down  upon  the  growling  masculine  majority. 
The  club  steward  hovered  near,  anxiously 
directing  the  movements  of  a  silent  and  as 


2  THE   FLYERS 

yet  undrilled  corps  of  servants  who  flitted 
from  group  to  group  with  decanters  and 
checks,  taking  and  mistaking  orders  with  the 
usual  abandon.  A  huge  fireplace  threw  out 
heat  sufficient  to  make  the  big  lounging 
room  comfortable.  Now  and  then  a  spite 
ful  gust  of  wind  swept  the  rain  against  the 
western  window-panes  with  a  menace  that  set 
the  teeth  on  edge. 

"  Rotten  night,"  reflected  the  big  man 
who  monopolised  the  roomiest  chair  and  the 
best  position  in  front  of  the  blazing  logs. 
"Going  to  town  to-night?"  The  question 
was  general :  there  were  half  a  dozen  answers. 
Every  one  was  going  in  by  the  last  express. 
All  of  them  had  dined  well :  they  had  been 
hungry  and  the  club  was  a  wealthy  one; 
even  the  most  exclusive  of  appetites  could 
be  entertained  at  the  Faraway  Country  Club. 
The  last  'bus  was  to  leave  the  clubhouse  at 
ten  minutes  past  ten,  and  it  was  then  half- 
past  eight.  Ten  minutes'  drive  from  the 
clubhouse  on  the  edge  of  the  little  town  to 
the  railway  station  —  then  thirty  minutes 
to  the  heart  of  the  big  city  in  which  the 
members  lived  and  died  at  great  risk  to 
themselves. 


THE   FARAWAY   CLUB  3 

Each  succeeding  spring  saw  the  formal 
opening  of  the  Faraway  Country  Club. 
The  boards  were  pulled  down  from  the 
windows  and  the  door  hinges  were  oiled 
properly  after  a  winter  of  discontent.  May 
saw  the  reopening,  but  it  was  not  until  June 
that  crowds  began  to  fill  the  house  and 
grounds.  Only  the  more  restless  and  hardy 
had  the  temerity  to  test  the  pleasures  of  the 
raw  spring  days  and  nights.  The  M.  F.  H. 
was  a  loyal,  eager  chap ;  he  knew  what 
was  required  of  him  in  his  official  capacity. 
With  the  first  symptoms  of  softening  soil 
he  led  his  followers  through  field  and  wood, 
promising  the  "  real  hunt "  inside  of  a 
month.  Following  a  pack  of  overfed  hounds 
was  what  every  one  at  Faraway  Club  called  a 
"  real  hunt." 

The  night  so  meagrely  described  at  the 
beginning  of  this  tale  followed  hard  upon  a 
grey,  chill  day.  A  few  golfers  had  spent  the 
afternoon  upon  the  course,  inanely  cursing 
the  temporary  tees  and  greens.  A  couple 
of  polo  enthusiasts  tried  out  their  ponies, 
and  several  men  and  women  took  their 
hunters  over  the  course,  that  fairly  bristled 
with  spectres  of  last  year's  anise-seed.  Now 


4  THE    FLYERS 

they  were  comfortably  ensconced  in  the  club 
house,  berating  the  unfortunate  elements, 
and  waiting  for  the  last  express  with  a  per 
sistency  which  allowed  three  or  four  earlier 
trains  to  come  and  go  unnoticed.  The 
cheerful  highball  was  coining  into  its  own. 
A  stern  winter  of  bridge  had  not  killed  the 
ardour  of  certain  worshippers ;  continuous 
criticism  of  play  arose  from  the  table  in  the 
corner  where  two  men  and  two  women  were 
engaged  with  the  cards. 

The  perennial  bore,  who  noses  into  every 
thing  in  order  to  sniff  his  own  wit,  sauntered 
amiably  from  group  to  group,  pouring  out 
jests  as  murky  as  the  night  itself.  He  saw 
none  of  the  scowls  nor  heard  the  toe-taps  ; 
he  went  blithely  along  his  bridgeless  way. 

"  I  say,  Brown,  I  saw  your  wife  on  the 
street  yesterday,  but  she  did  n't  see  me," 
he  observed  to  the  blase-looking  man  in 
corduroys. 

"  Ya-as,"  returned  the  other,  calmly  star 
ing  past  him;  "so  she  told  me  last  night." 
The  bore  and  his  blissful  smile  passed  on 
to  the  next  group.  There,  two  or  three 
women  were  chatting  with  as  many  men, 
yawning  and  puffing  at  their  cigarettes,  bored 


7 


THE    FARAWAY   CLUB  5 

by  the  risque  stories  the  men  were  telling, 
but  smiling  as  though  they  had  not  already 
heard  them  from  other  men.  Occasional 
remarks,  dropped  softly  into  the  ears  of  the 
women,  may  have  brought  faint  blushes  to 
their  cheeks,  but  the  firelight  was  a  fickle 
consort  to  such  changes.  The  sly  turn  of  a 
sentence  gave  many  a  double  meaning ;  the 
subtle  glance  of  the  eye  intended  no  harm. 
Dobson's  new  toast  to  "  fair  women  "  earned 
a  roar  of  laughter,  but  afterwards  Dobson 
was  called  to  account  by  a  husband  who  real 
ised.  A  man  over  in  the  corner  was  thump 
ing  aimlessly  on  the  piano  ;  a  golf  fanatic 
was  vigorously  contending  that  he  had  driven 
243  yards  against  the  wind;  a  tennis  enthu 
siast  was  lamenting  the  fact  that  the  courts 
were  too  soft  to  be  used ;  there  was  a  certain 
odour  of  rain-soaked  clothes  in  the  huge 
room,  ascendant  even  above  the  smell  of 
cigarettes.  Altogether,  it  was  a  night  that 
owed  much  to  the  weather. 

Mrs.  Scudaway,  dashing  horsewoman  and 
exponent  of  the  free  rein,  was  repeating  the 
latest  story  concerning  an  intimate  friend 
of  every  one  present  —  and,  consequently, 
absent. 


Jtf 


6  THE   FLYERS 

"  She 's  just  sailed  for  Europe,  and  that 
good-looking  actor  friend  of  the  family  hap 
pened  to  go  on  the  same  steamer,"  she  was 
saying  with  a  joyous  smile. 

"  Accidents  will  happen,"  remarked  some 
one,  benevolently. 

"  Where  's  her  husband  ?  I  have  n't  seen 
him  with  her  in  months,"  came  from  one  of 
the  men. 

"  Oh,  they  have  two  children,  you  know," 
explained  Mrs.  Scudaway. 

"  Delicate,  I  hear,"  said  Miss  Ratliff. 

"  Naturally  ;  he  nurses  them,"  said  Mrs. 
Scudaway,  blowing  smoke  half-way  across 
the  room  through  her  delicate  nostrils. 

"  I  say,  Mrs.  Scudaway,"  cried  the  rapt 
bore,  "  don't  you  ever  do  anything  but 
inhale?" 

"  Yes,  I  exhale  occasionally.  No,  thanks," 
as  he  held  forth  an  ash  tray.  Then  she 
flecked  the  ashes  into  the  fireplace,  ten  feet 
away. 

"  Good  Lord,  it 's  a  rotten  night !  "  re 
peated  the  big  man,  returning  dismally  from 
a  visit  to  the  window.  "  There  's  a  beastly 
fog  mixed  in  with  the  rain." 

"  Better  blow  the  fog  horn   for  Hender- 


THE   FARAWAY    CLUB  7 

son,"  said  Ratliff,  with  a  jerk  of  his  thumb. 
"  He  's  half  seas  over  already  and  shipping 
a  lot  of  water."  Henderson,  the  convivial 
member,  was  on  his  third  siphon. 

"  I  don't  care  a  whoop  what  McAlpine 
says,"  roared  an  irascible  gentleman  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  fireplace  ;  "  a  man  ought 
to  use  a  midiron  when  he  gets  that  kind  of 
a  lie.  Nobody  but  an  ass  would  take  a 
brassie.  He  's  —  " 

"  Just  listen  to  that  blethering  idiot,"  said 
young  Rolfe  to  the  lady  beside  him.  "  He 
ought  to  be  choked." 

"  I  like  the  way  you  speak  of  my  hus 
band,"  she  responded  gaily. 

"  Oh,  I  forgot.  He  is  your  husband, 
isn't  he?"  Then,  after  a  moment's  easy 
contemplation  of  the  pretty  young  woman 
and  a  scornful  glance  at  the  golfer :  "  Lucky, 
but  a  very  poor  watchdog." 

"  He  barks  beautifully,"  resented  the 
young  wife,  with  a  loyal  grimace. 

"  That  's  why  you  're  not  afraid  of  him," 
he  said  quickly. 

"  Don't  you  think  he  'd  bite  ?  " 

"  They  never  do." 

"  Well,  you  just  try  him,  that's  all,"  re- 


8  THE   FLYERS 

marked  the  young  wife  coldly,  rising  and 
moving  away,  a  touch  of  red  in  her  cheeks. 

"  I  will,"  he  sang  out  genially,  as  he 
crossed  his  legs  and  stretched  his  feet  out  to 
the  fire.  She  looked  back  with  a  mirthless 
smile  on  her  lips. 

The  man  at  the  piano  struck  up  the  in 
sidious  "  La  Mattchiche,"  suggestive  of  the 
Bal  Tabarin  and  other  Fourteenth  of  July 
devotions. 

"  Don't  play  that,  Barkley,"  complained 
the  big  man,  as  every  one  began  beating 
time  to  the  fascinating  air.  "  I  'm  trying  to 
forget  Paris." 

"  Can  you  ever  forget  that  night  in 
Maxim's  —  "  began  Mrs.  Scudaway. 

"  I  recall  the  next  day  more  vividly,"  he 
interrupted. 

"  Changing  the  subject,"  inserted  the  ami 
able  bore,  his  moon-face  beaming,  "  I  see 
that  the  Thursdales  have  opened  their  place 
across  the  ravine.  Is  n't  it  rather  early  for 
them  to  leave  town  for  the  summer?" 

"  They  come  out  every  year  about  this 
time." 


THE   FARAWAY    CLUB  9 

day.  She  says  they  're  putting  her  house  in 
shape  —  " 

"  Impossible  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Tanner.  "  It 
has  n't  any  shape." 

"  The  only  thing  that  could  put  the  Gor- 
gus  house  in  shape  is  an  earthquake.  Who 
was  the  architect  of  that  abortion  ?  "  de 
manded  Rolfe. 

"  Denison.     He  's  an  impressionist." 

"  The  Thursdales  have  a  new  French  car. 
Have  you  seen  it?  Eleanor  ran  over  here 
in  it  this  afternoon  with  her  Englishman. 
Showing  off  both  of  her  novelties  at  once, 
d'ye  see?  "  said  Carter,  the  tennis  player. 

"  I  understand  the  thing  's  a  go  —  sure 
go,"  said  the  big  man.  "  In  the  fall  some 
time.  He  's  a  rather  decent  chap,  too." 

"And,  what 's  better,  if  his  brother  and  his 
cousin  should  happen  to  die,  he'll  be  a  duke." 

"  If  they  're  as  healthy  as  he  seems  to  be, 
there  '11  be  nothing  doing  for  him." 

A  good-looking  young  fellow,  who  had 
been  staring  at  the  fire  all  evening,  moved 
uneasily  in  his  lounging  chair.  Several  quick 
glances  were  sent  to  where  he  sat  moodily 
apart  from  the  others,  and  then  surreptitious 
winks  and  nudges  were  exchanged. 


i 


IO 


THE   FLYERS 


"  Joe  is  as  crazy  in  love  with  her  as  ever, 
poor  devil,"  whispered  Rolfe.  Gradually 
the  group  of  gossips  came  closer  together 
over  the  table  top ;  the  conversation  was 
continued  in  more  subdued  tones. 

"  They  're  discussing  me,  damn  'em,"  said 
the  moody  young  man  to  himself.  "  I  sup 
pose  they  're  pitying  me.  Damn  cats  !  But 
I'll  show  'em  a  thing  or  two  they're  not 
looking  for  before  long."  He  looked  at  his 
watch  for  the  twentieth  time  in  an  hour 
and  scowled  at  the  drenched  window-panes 
across  the  way.  For  some  reason  this  ex 
ceedingly  nice-looking  young  man  was  in  a 
state  of  extreme  nervousness,  a  condition 
which,  luckily  for  him,  he  was  able  to  keep 
within  himself. 

And  this  was  what  Mrs.  Scudaway  was 
saying  in  an  urgent  undertone  to  the  half 
dozen  who  leaned  across  the  big  table:  "Joe 
is  a  mighty  good  sort,  and  I  'm  sorry  for 
him.  He  's  been  good  enough  for  Eleanor 
Thursdale  ever  since  she  came  out  two  years 
ago,  and  I  don't  see  why  he  should  cease 
being  good  enough  for  her  now.  This  Eng 
lishman  hasn't  any  more  money  and  he 
isn't  half  as  good  looking.  He's  English, 


THE    FARAWAY   CLUB 


ii 


that 's  all.  Her  mother 's  crazy  to  have  a 
look  in  at  some  of  those  London  functions 
she  's  read  so  much  about.  She  's  an  awful 
ass,  don't  you  think,  Tommy  ?  " 

"  Ya— as,"  said  the  blase  man  ;  "  such  as 
she  is." 

"  Mighty  hard  lines,  this  thing  of  being 
an  ordinary  American,"  lamented  the  placid 
bore. 

"  One  might  just  as  well  be  called  Abra 
ham  or  Isaac,"  reflected  Carter. 

"  No  romantic  young  lover  would  live 
through  the  first  chapter  with  either  of  those 
names,"  said  pretty  Miss  Ratliff,  who  read 
every  novel  that  came  out. 

"  Dauntless  has  been  terribly  out  of  hu 
mour  for  the  past  week  or  two,"  said  Carter. 
"He's  horribly  cut  up  over  the  affair, — 
grouchy  as  blazes,  and  flocks  by  himself  all 
the  time.  That's  not  like  him,  either." 

"  He  's  the  sweetest  boy  I  know,"  com 
mented  little  Mrs.  Tanner,  whose  husband 
had  barked  about  the  midiron. 

"  I  Ve  heard  he  's  the  only  man  you  ever 
really  loved,"  murmured  Rolfe,  close  to  her 
ear. 

"  Nonsense !      I  've    known    him    all   my 


12 


THE    FLYERS 


life,"  she  replied,  with  quick  and  suspicious 
resentment. 

"  Trite  phrase,"  scoffed  he.  "  I  '11  wager 
my  head  that  every  woman  living  has  uttered 
that  same  worn  expression  a  hundred  times. 
*  Known  him  all  my  life  ! '  Ha,  ha  !  It 's  a 
stock  apology,  my  dear.  Women,  good  and 
bad,  trade  under  that  flag.  Please,  to  oblige 
me,  get  a  fresh  excuse." 

"  The  most  ignorant  duffer  in  the  world 
could  lay  you  a  stymie  if — "  the  loud- 
voiced  golfer  was  complaining  just  at  that 
instant.  The  man  he  was  addressing  was 
nodding  his  head  politely  and  at  the  same 
time  trying  to  hear  what  was  being  said  at 
the  round  table. 

"  Joe  Dauntless  is  good  enough  for  any 
body's  daughter,"  vouchsafed  the  blase  marj 
in  corduroys. 

"  He  's  a  ripping  good  fellow,"  again  said 
Mrs.  Scudaway. 

"  Mrs.  Thursdale  's  got  an  English  gov 
erness  for  her  kids,  an  English  butler,  an 
English  bull  terrier,  and  a  new  Cobden- 
Sanderson  binding  on  that  antique  History 
of  England  she  talks  so  much  about,"  ob 
served  Carter. 


THE    FARAWAY    CLUB  13 

"  And  she  's  beginning  to  wear  her  even 
ing  gowns  on  the  street  in  the  morning. 
Besides,  her  shoes  lob  over  at  the  heels," 
remarked  the  rangy  Mrs.  Carter. 

"  Yes,  she 's  getting  to  be  thoroughly 
English.  I  Ve  noticed  a  tendency  to  chirp 
like  a  bird  when  she  talks,  too." 

"  That  governess  is  a  mighty  stunning 
girl,  by  the  way,"  said  Rolfe. 

"  She 's  been  over  here  a  year,  you  know," 
said  Mrs.  Scudaway,  with  no  apparent  rele 
vancy. 

"  Have  you  heard  when  Eleanor's  en 
gagement  is  to  be  announced  ?  "  asked 
Miss  Ratliff. 

"  I  'm  not  supposed  to  tell,  but  I  have  it 
on  the  best  authority  that  it  will  be  an 
nounced  next  week,  and  the  wedding  will 
take  place  in  November.  I  suppose  they  '11 
ask  Joe  Dauntless  to  be  an  usher,"  said 
Mrs.  Carter. 

"Hello!  Joe's  gone  outside.  He  must 
have  heard  something  we  said,"  said  Rolfe, 
setting  his  highball  glass  down  with  a  thump. 

"  Oh,  if  he  had  only  been  educated  at  Cam 
bridge  instead  of  in  Cambridge,"  mourned 
Mrs.  Carter. 


Jtf 


THE   FLYERS 

It  was  true  that  the  tall,  good-looking 
Mr.  Dauntless  had  left  the  room,  but  not 
because  he  had  heard  the  comments  of  his 
friends.  He  was  standing  on  the  wind 
swept  verandah,  peering  through  the  mist 
toward  a  distant  splash  of  light  across  the 
ravine  to  the  right  of  the  club  grounds.  The 
fog  and  mist  combined  to  run  the  many 
lights  of  the  Thursdale  windows  into  a  sin 
gle  smear  of  colour  a  few  shades  brighter 
than  the  darkness  from  which  it  protruded. 
Dauntless's  heart  was  inside  that  vague,  im 
pressionistic  circle  of  colour,  but  his  brain  was 
very  much  in  evidence  on  the  distant  out 
side.  What  were  the  workings  of  that  eager 
brain  will  soon  be  revealed  — to  the  reader, 
at  least,  if  not  to  the  occupants  of  the  rain- 
bound  clubhouse. 

A  word  concerning  Dauntless.  He  was 
the  good-looking  son  of  old  banker  Daunt 
less,  who  died  immediately  after  his  cashier 
brought  ruin  to  the  concern  of  which  he  was 
president.  This  blow  fell  when  his  son  was 
in  his  senior  year  at  Harvard.  He  took  his 
degree,  and  then,  instead  of  the  promised 
trip  around  the  world,  he  came  home  and 
went  to  work  in  the  offices  of  a  big  brokerage 


THE    FARAWAY    CLUB  15 

firm.  Everybody  knew  and  liked  him.  He 
was  a  steady,  earnest  worker,  and  likewise  a 
sportsman  of  the  right  temperament.  Big, 
fashionable  Faraway  looked  upon  him  as  its 
most  gallant  member;  no  one  cared  to  re 
member  that  he  might  have  been  very  rich  ; 
every  one  loved  him  because  he  had  been 
rich  and  was  worthy  in  spite  of  that.  It 
was  common  knowledge  that  he  was  desper 
ately  in  love  with  pretty  Eleanor  Thursdale, 
daughter  of  the  eminently  fashionable  and 
snobbishly  aristocratic  widow  Thursdale,  mis 
tress  of  many  millions  and  leader  of  select 
hundreds.  Moreover,  it  was  now  pretty  well 
known  that  Mrs.  Thursdale  had  utterly  lost 
sight  of  Dauntless  in  surveying  the  field  of 
desirable  husbands  for  Eleanor.  She  could 
see  nothing  but  Englishmen,  behind  whom 
lurked  the  historic  London  drawing-rooms 
and  British  estates.  That  is  how  and  why 
young  Windomshire,  a  most  delightful  Lon 
doner,  with  prospects  and  a  peerage  behind 
him,  came  to  be  a  guest  in  her  city  house,  fol 
lowing  close  upon  a  long  sojourn  in  the  Ber 
mudas.  He  had  been  chosen  ;  the  battle  was 
over,  so  far  as  Eleanor's  hand  was  concerned. 
What  matter  if  Dauntless  had  her  heart? 


16 


THE    FLYERS 


The  object  of  this  indifference  and  scorn 
gazed  long  and  hard  at  the  blob  of  light 
across  the  ravine.  His  heart  was  beating 
fast,  and  his  body  tingled  with  a  strange  ex 
citement,  which  made  itself  manifest  in  a 
mixture  of  impatient  frowns  and  prophetic 
smiles. 

"  If  it  was  n't  such  a  beastly  night,"  he 
was  muttering  in  one  breath,  and,  "  Still,  it 's 
just  the  sort  of  a  night  we  want,"  in  the 
next.  He  was  looking  at  his  watch  in  the 
light  from  the  window  when  an  automobile 
whizzed  up  the  wet  gravel  drive  and  came 
to  a  stop  in  front  of  the  club  steps.  As 
Dauntless  re-entered  the  house  from  the 
verandah,  a  tall  young  man  in  a  motor  coat 
and  goggles  came  in  through  the  opposite 
door.  They  paused  and  looked  steadily  at 
each  other,  then  nodded  briefly.  The  crowd 
of  loungers  glanced  at  the  two  men  with 
instant  curiosity  and  then  breathed  easily. 
The  man  who  was  going  to  marry  Miss 
Thursdale  and  the  man  who  wanted  to 
marry  her  were  advancing  to  shake  hands  — 
a  trifle  awkwardly,  perhaps,  but  more  or  less 
frankly. 

"  Rough  weather  for  motoring,"  remarked 


THE    FARAWAY   CLUB  17 

Dauntless,  nervously.  Windomshire  re 
moved  his  cap  and  goggles. 

"  Beastly.  I  just  ran  over  for  something 
to  warm  the  inside  man.  Won't  you  join 
me  ?  "  His  voice  was  pleasant  to  the  ear,  his 
manner  easy  and  appealing.  He  was  not  so 
good  looking  as  Dauntless,  true,  but  he  had 
the  air  of  a  thoroughbred  in  his  make-up  — 
from  head  to  foot. 

"  Sit  down  here,"  called  Mrs.  Scudaway 
readily,  creating  a  general  shift  of  chairs. 
The  two  men  hesitated  a  moment,  nervous 
ness  apparent  in  both,  and  then  sat  down 
quickly.  The  Englishman  was  next  Mrs. 
Scudaway.  "  What  were  you  doing  out  in  the 
rain  ?  "  she  asked  after  the  order  for  drinks 
had  been  taken. 

"  Hurrying  to  get  out  of  it,"  he  said  with 
evasive  good  humour,  "  and  thinking  how 
much  nicer  your  fogs  are  than  ours,"  he 
added  quickly. 

"  Anybody  come  over  with  you  ?  "  asked 
the  bore,  agreeably. 

"  No,  they're  playing  bridge  over  at  Mrs. 
Thursdale's  and  that  lets  me  out.  Beastly 
headache,  too.  Got  out  for  a  breath  of 
air."  The  silence  that  followed  this  observa- 


i8 


THE    FLYERS 


tion  seemed  to  call  for  further  explanations. 
"  Miss  Thursdale  retired  soon  after  dinner, 
wretchedly  under  the  weather.  That  rather 
left  me  adrift,  don't  you  know.  I  'm  not 
playing  bridge  this  year." 

"  You  're  not  ?     Why  not,  pray  ?  " 

"  Chiefly  because  of  last  year.  My  Mer 
cedes  came  on  from  New  York  yesterday  and 
I  got  her  out  for  a  spin.  Could  n't  resist,  don't 
you  know.  She's  working  beautifully." 

"  There  's  one  thing  about  a  Mercedes  that 
I  don't  like  —  and  you  don't  find  it  in  a 
Panhard.  I  've  got  a  Panhard  and  —  "  Dob- 
son  was  saying  with  all  the  arrogance  of  a 
motor  fiend,  when  Mrs.  Scudaway  ruthlessly 
and  properly  cut  him  off. 

"  We  know  all  about  your  Panhard, 
Dobby.  Don't  bother.  Is  Eleanor  really 
ill,  Mr.  Windomshire? 

"  I  had  it  from  her  own  lips,  Mrs.  Scud- 
away." 

"  Oh,  you  know  what  I  mean.  Is  it 
likely  to  be  serious  ?  " 

"  Really,  I  can't  say.  I  offered  to  go  and 
fetch  the  doctor  in  my  car,  but  she  assured 
me  she  'd  be  all  right  in  the  morning.  What 
Mr.  Dauntless?" 


THE    FARAWAY    CLUB  19 

"  I  didn't  speak,  Mr.  Windomshire." 

"  I  thought  you  did."  More  than  one  at 
the  table  had  heard  Joe's  involuntary  chuckle. 

"I  say,  Windomshire,  what's  the  name 
of  that  pretty  governess  over  at  Thurs- 
dale's  ?  "  asked  the  busy  bore.  "  Saw  her 
this  morning;." 

The  Englishman  looked  down  and  flecked 
the  ashes  from  his  cigarette  before  answering. 

"  Miss  Courtenay,"  he  responded. 

"She's  a  corking  pretty  girl."  Windom 
shire  went  through  the  unnecessary  act  of 
flecking  ashes  again,  but  said  nothing  in 
reply.  "Are  there  any  more  at  home  like 
her?"  with  a  fine  chuckle  in  behalf  of  his 
wit. 

"  She  's  of  a  very  good  family,  I  believe," 
said  Windomshire,  looking  about  helplessly. 
Mrs.  Scudaway  caught  the  look  in  his  eyes 
and  remembered  that  English  gentlemen  are 
not  supposed  to  discuss  women  outside  of 
their  own  set. 

"  It  must  be  time  for  the  'bus,"  she  said. 
"We're  all  going  in  by  the  10.10,  Mr. 
Windomshire." 

"  Can't  I  take  some  of  you  over  to  the 
station  in  my  car?" 


2O 


THE   FLYERS 


"The  'bus  is  dryer,  I  think,  thank  you." 
She  led  the  way,  and  the  other  women  fol 
lowed  her  upstairs.  "  We  '11  be  down  in 
time,"  she  called. 

"  I  '11  take  some  of  you  men  over  in 
Hardy's  machine,"  volunteered  Dauntless. 
"  I  've  got  it  out  here  this  week,  while  he  's 
east." 

"Ain't  you  going  in,  Joe ?"  demanded 
Rolfe. 

"  Not  to-night.  I  'm  staying  overnight 
with  my  uncle  in  Cobberly  Road." 

"  The  'bus  is  good  enough  for  me.  I 
have  n't  forgotten  how  you  ran  off  the  Peters 
Bridge  last  fall,"  said  Carter. 

"  Hang  it,  man,  he  was  n't  thinking  about 
bridges  that  time,"  said  the  cheerful  bore. 
"There  was  a  girl  with  him.  Elea —  Ahem! 
I  say,  old  man,  what  the  devil  time  is  it  ? 
Time  for  the  confounded  'bus  ?  Don't  want 
to  miss  the  train."  He  had  caught  the  scowl 
of  warning  from  Carter  and,  for  a  wonder, 
understood. 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Windomshire,  irrele 
vantly,  "what  was  the  disturbance  over  in 
O'Brien's  Lane  this  morning?  Anybody 
hurt  ?  I  was  driving  the  car  up  Andrews' 


THE   FARAWAY    CLUB 


21 


Hill  when  I  saw  the  excitement.  Could  n't 
make  it  out.  Were  all  of  the  horses  running 
away  ?  " 

"  Running  away  !  "  roared  the  blase  man, 
forgetting  his  pose  for  the  first  time.  "  Run 
ning  away  ! "  and  he  broke  into  a  roar  of 
laughter.  "  Why,  that  was  the  advance 
guard  of  the  Faraway  Country  Club.  Good 
Lord,  did  you  see  them  coming  in  ?  " 

"  My  word,  they  were  coming  in.  But 
what  was  the  rush  ?  I  came  over  to-night  to 
see  if  any  of  the  women  had  been  hurt.  I 
could  have  sworn  the  horses  were  absolutely 
unmanageable.  They  were  tearing  through 
bushes  and  taking  fences  they  'd  never  seen 
before.  Egad,  I  give  you  my  word,  one  of 
the  women  took  the  fence  at  the  south  end 
of  the  golf  course,  and  she  did  n't  turn  out 
for  the  bunker  at  No.  7,  either.  She  took  it 
like  a  bird,  and  straight  across  the  course 
she  flew  on  a  dead  line  for  the  home  green. 
What  the  deuce  —  " 

"  Sh  !  Windomshire,  it  will  cost  you  your 
life  if  she  hears  you.  That  was  Mrs.  Scud- 
away.  You  don't  know  what  happened,  so 
I  '11  tell  you.  Half  a  dozen  of  the  women 
went  out  with  us  for  a  run  over  the  usual 


22 


THE    FLYERS 


course.  They  are  among  our  best  and  oldest 
hunters,  too.  Well,  they  were  keeping  right 
up  with  the  men  and  having  a  splendid  hunt, 
when  all  of  a  sudden  a  real,  live  fox  dashed 
into  view.  By  gad,  sir,  he  started  a  panic. 
They  'd  never  seen  one  in  their  lives,  and 
they  set  up  a  howl  that  went  clear  to  heaven. 
And  they  started  for  home  —  well,  you  saw 
'em  on  the  stretch.  It  was  great!  There 
never  has  been  such  riding  in  America. 
Mrs.  Hooper  lost  her  hat  in  the  woods,  and 
Mrs.  Graves  lost  part  of  her  habit  coming 
through  that  break  in  the  hedge  over  there. 
That  skinny  Miss  Elperson,  who  never  before 
has  had  nerve  enough  to  jump  her  horse  over 
the  lawn  hose,  cleared  the  wall  that  runs 
along  O'Brien's  mill,  —  nobody  's  ever  done 
it  before,  —  and  she  came  in  hanging  to  the 
horse's  mane  and  yelling  like  a  wild-cat. 
Gad,  it  was  two  hours  before  we  got  'em 
quiet  and  sent 'em  to  town.  They  thought 
it  was  a  tiger,  I  understand,  although  some 
of  them  held  out  for  the  lion  and  the  hyena. 
Mrs.  Scudaway  was  game  enough  to  stay 
and  enjoy  the  laugh." 

"  What  became  of  the  fox?  "  demanded  the 
Englishman,  his  eyes    glistening.     At    that 


THE    FARAWAY   CLUB 


23 


if    I 


practice    run,   you 
I  say,  ladies,  the  'bus 


moment    the    women   came  trooping    down 
stairs;  the  'bus  bell  was  clanging  sleepily. 

'"'The    fox?      Oh — er  —  hanged 
know.     I  —  er  —  " 

"  Were  you  riding  ?  " 

"Well  —  er  —  just    a 
know,  old  man.    Er  — 
waits  ! " 

Two  minutes  later  the  'bus  rolled  away  in 
the  fog  and  drizzle,  leaving  Dauntless  and 
Windomshire  alone  on  the  steps. 

"  Good-night,"  said  the  Englishman,  after 
an  awkward  silence. 

"  Good-night,"  was  the  response.  Then, 
following  a  brief  pause,  both  started  toward 
their  cars.  The  next  minute  they  were 
chugging  away  in  the  night  and  the  lights 
in  the  clubhouse  began  to  go  out. 

Two  hours  later  a  stealthy  figure  crept 
across  the  Thursdale  lawn,  lurking  behind 
the  rose  beds  and  lilac  bushes,  finally  worm 
ing  its  way  to  a  dripping  but  secluded  spot 
under  the  weather  side  of  the  house.  It  was 
past  twelve  o'clock,  but  there  were  still  lights 
in  the  front  part  of  the  big  summer-house. 
Quiet  reigned  there,  however;  the  noise 
of  merry-making  came  from  the  servants' 


24  THE   FLYERS 

quarters  overlooking  the  ravine.  A  handful 
of  gravel  left  an  impatient  hand  and  rattled 
against  the  second-story  window  above.  Al 
most  instantaneously  the  window  was  raised 
and  a  head  came  forth. 

"  Joe  ?  "  came  a  shrill  whisper  from  above. 

"What's  the  matter?"  whispered  the 
man  below.  "  I  've  been  waiting  out  there 
for  two  hours  —  well,  half  an  hour,  at  least. 
Are  n't  you  coming,  dear  ?  " 

"  I  can't  get  out,"  came  in  a  whispered 
wail.  "  I  've  had  my  hat  on  for  hours,  but  — " 

"  Why  can't  you  get  out  ?  Good  Lord, 
you  just  must !  " 

"  They  're  playing  bridge  in  the  front  part 
of  the  house  and  the  servants  are  having  a 
reunion  in  the  back.  Oh,  I  Ve  been  nearly 
crazy.  What  are  we  to  do  ?  Shall  I  jump?" 

"  Don't !     Is  there  no  way  to  sneak  out  ?  " 

"  I  'm  afraid  of  being  seen.  It  would  give 
everything  away  if  any  one  saw  me  in  this 
automobile  rigging  at  this  time  of  night  — 
and  in  a  rain  like  this,  too.  Oh,  dear,  dear, 
I  know  I  shall  go  mad !  You  poor  darling, 


K<2< 


THE   FARAWAY   CLUB  25 

the  world,"  groaned  Dauntless.  "It's  ten 
miles,  and  the  road  's  horrible  all  the  way. 
By  Jove,  Nell,  you  must  get  out  some  way. 
It's  now  or  never.  I  've  got  everything 
fixed." 

"  Oh,  Joe  —  listen!  Do  you  think  you 
can  get  a  ladder  out  from  under  the  ve 
randah  ?  The  painters  left  them  there  this 
morning.  Look  out  for  paint,  dear.  Don't 
make  a  noise  —  not  a  sound.  Mr.  Windom- 
shire's  room  is  just  over  the  porte  cochere. 
For  Heaven's  sake,  don't  arouse  him." 

"  Drop  your  bag  down  first,  dear,  —  here  ! 
I  '11  catch  it." 

"  I  've  got  to  put  some  things  in  it  first. 
It  is  n't  quite  ready,"  she  gasped,  darting 
away  from  the  window. 

"  'T  was  ever  thus,"  he  muttered  in  despair. 
Cautiously  he  made  his  way  to  the  end  of 
the  verandah.  A  close  listener  might  have 
heard  him  snarl  "  damn  "  more  than  once  as 
he  tugged  away  at  the  painters'  ladders,  which 
had  been  left  there  when  the  rain  began. 
He  was  a  good-natured  chap,  but  barking  his 
knuckles,  bumping  his  head,  and  banging  his 
shins,  added  to  the  misfortunes  that  had  gone 
before,  were  enough  to  demoralise  a  saint. 


D 


u 


26 


THE    FLYERS 


He  imagined  that  he  was  making  enough 
noise  to  rouse  the  neighbours  for  blocks 
around.  No  time  was  to  be  lost  in  self-com 
miseration,  however.  He  hurriedly  dragged 
out  a  ladder,  which  he  managed  to  place 
against  the  window-sill  without  accident. 

"  Here  it  is,"  she  whispered  excitedly. 
The  next  instant  a  heavy  object  dropped  at 
his  feet  with  a  crash.  "  Oh  !  "  she  exclaimed 
with  horror,  "  my  perfume  bottles  ! " 

"  Good  Lord  !  "  he  gasped. 

"  I  thought  you  were  going  to  catch  it. 
Oh,  here's  the  ladder.  Do  you  think  I  '11 
fall?  Oh,  oh!" 

"  Don't  be  afraid.  Climb  out,  dear  — 
and  hurry  !  " 

She  was  brave  enough  in  the  crisis.  While 
he  held  the  bottom  of  the  ladder  she  scram 
bled  through  the  window  and  hurried  down- 

O 

ward.  Before  she  reached  the  bottom  he 
lifted  her  from  the  ladder  in  his  strong  arms 
and  held  her  close  for  a  moment. 

"  Take  the  ladder  down,  dearest,"  she 
whispered  between  kisses.  "  I  don't  want 
mother  to  know  I  left  that  way  —  not  just 
yet,  —  nor  Mr.  Windomshire,  either." 

"  Come  this  way,"  he  whispered,  after  re- 


THE    FARAWAY    CLUB 


27 


placing  the  ladder.  "I  left  the  car  just 
I A  around  the  corner.  Come  on,  darling,  and 
we  '11  soon  be  safe.  Don't  make  a  noise  !  " 

"  Goodness,  is  n't  it  dark  !  What  a  hor 
rid  night  !  Oh,  what's  that  ?" 

"  Gad,  I  thought  I  heard  something  over 
there  in  the  croquet  ground.  Sounded  like 
some  one  mixing  it  up  with  a  wicket.  Quick  ! 
Out  this  way  !  "  He  had  her  hand  in  his, 
and  was  rushing  ruthlessly  through  flower 
beds  toward  the  big  gate,  her  travelling  bag 
banging  against  his  knee  with  the  insistence 
of  a  hundredweight. 

Panting  and  gasping  for  breath,  they  finally 
floundered  into  the  roadway,  and  dashed  off 
through  the  muddy  surface  toward  the  un 
seen  automobile. 

She  was  half  fainting  with  the  panic  of 
excitement  as  he  started  to  lift  her  into  the 
tonneau  of  the  car.  "No,  no!  Please  let  me 
sit  with  you  in  the  front  seat,"  she  implored, 
She  had  her  way,  and  a  moment  later  he  was 
up  beside  her,  both  wrapped  in  the  oil-cloths, 
the  drizzle  blowing  in  their  hot  faces. 

"  We  're  off,  thank  God  !  "  he  whispered 
joyously,  as  the  car  leaped  forward  under 
his  hand. 


28  THE   FLYERS 

"  I  wonder  —  oh,  dear,  how  I  wonder  what 
mamma  will  say,"  she  was  crying  in  his  ear. 

Dauntless  grinned  happily  as  the  car  shot 
onward  through  the  blackness  of  the  night. 
Its  lanterns  were  dark  and  cold,  but  he 
knew  the  road. 


CHAPTER    II 

THE    FLYERS    CATCH    THE    FLYER 

NO  one  would  have  recognised  either 
of  them  had  it  been  possible  to  see 
them,  so  carefully  were  their  heads 
swathed  in  their  coverings.  She  was  veiled 
and  he  was  goggled,  and  both  of  them 
scrooged  down  in  the  seat  apprehensively. 
Hardy's  car,  borrowed  in  reality  for  the  oc 
casion,  was  performing  nobly.  It  careened 
through  the  muddy  streets  of  the  village 
with  a  sturdiness  that  augured  well  for  the 
enterprise.  Out  into  the  country  road, 
scudding  northward,  it  sped.  Dauntless  in 
creased  the  speed,  not  to  the  limit,  on  ac 
count  of  the  fog  and  uncertainty  of  the  road, 
but  enough  to  add  new  thrills  to  the  girl 
who  crouched  beside  him.  Neither  spoke 
until  they  were  far  from  the  town  line;  the 
strain  was  too  intense. 


3° 


THE    FLYERS 


"  What  will  everybody  say?"  she  finally 
cried  in  his  ear  —  the  most  natural  question 
in  the  world.  "  And  the  newspapers  ?  Oh, 
dear  !  " 

"You're  not  weakening,  are  you?"  he 
cried.  "Shall  I  turn  back?" 

She  was  silent  for  half  a  mile. 

"No,"  she  replied  at  last,  "  I  couldn't 
climb  up  that  ladder.  And  besides  —  "  with  a 
gasp  as  the  car  shot  over  the  railroad  tracks, 
—  "we  never  could  get  as  good  a  start  as 
this  again." 

"  Bully  for  you  !  "  he  shouted. 

"How  far  is  it  to  Fenlock,  Joe?"  she 
asked,  a  quaver  in  her  high-pitched  voice. 

"  About  seven  miles.  We  '11  take  the 
short  cut  through  O'Brien's  Lane  and  strike 
Cobberly  Road  again  at  the  crossroads. 
Then  it  will  be  easy  going.  We  '11  catch  the 
flyer  all  right,  Nell.  Everything  's  arranged. 
You  go  into  Car  5  and  I  in  Car  7  - 

"  With  a  whole  car  between  us  ?     Heav- 


dear.     There  might 
on  board  who  'd  know 
your  veil  down  u 
There  's  not  muc 


CATCH    THE    FLYER 

any  one  being  up  at  this  time  of  night,  but 
don't  take  any  chances." 

"  Goodness,  is  n't  it  thrilling  !  And  when 
do  we  get  to  Omegon  ?  " 

"  Little  after  seven  in  the  morning.  My 
cousin  will  meet  us  in  a  hack  and  drive  us 
straight  to  the  church.  His  wife  will  go  with 
us  as  the  extra  witness.  By  eight  o'clock 
we  '11  be  married.  Derby  will  be  on  the  train 
with  us.  He's  a  full-fledged  preacher  now, 
and  he'll  marry  us  without  a  whimper." 

"  Oh,"  she  sighed  deliciously,  in  spite  of 
the  jarring  of  the  motor,  "isn't  it  nice  to 
have  old  college  chums  who  can  be  depended 
upon  ?  " 

"  Poor  old  Windomshire,"  he  laughed  in 
the  buoyancy  of  conquest. 

"  I  don't  think  he  '11  —  "     She  stopped. 

"What?" 

"  Care  very  much,"  she  concluded.  He 
laughed  doubtingly. 

Mile  after  mile  the  car  traversed  the  misty 
night,  jolting  over  the  ruts  in  the  lane,  taking 
the  hills  blindly  —  driven  entirely  by  the 
hand  of  Good  Luck. 

Suddenly  the  "  honk,  honk  !  "  of  an  invisi 
ble  motor  struck  upon  their  tense  ears,  the 


32 


THE    FLYERS 


abrupt 


Curse 


sound  coming  from  some  point  ahead  in  the 
black,  narrow  lane.  Dauntless  sat  straight 
and  peered  ahead,  sounding  his  horn  sharply. 

"I  hope  no  one  is  coming  toward  us,"  he 
groaned,  slowing  up  sharply.  "  We  never 
can  pass  in  this  confounded  lane.  If  we  get 
off  into  the  soft  ground —  Hello!  Here  he 
comes  —  and  no  lights  either  !  Hey  !  Look 
out  ! "  He  brought  his  car  to  an 
standstill. 

"  Where  are  we,  Joe  ?  "  she  cried. 

"  Near  the  crossroads,  I  'm  sure, 
an  idiot  that  runs  around  without  lights  on  a 
night  like  this,"  he  growled,  forgetting  that 
his  own  lamps  were  dark. 

Out  of  the  misty  blackness  loomed  another 
car,  directly  ahead.  It  had  come  to  a  sud 
den  stop  not  ten  feet  away.  Both  cars  were 
tooting  their  horns  viciously. 

"Where  are  your  lights  ?  "  roared  Daunt 
less. 

"  Where  are  yours  ?  "  came  back  angrily 
through  the  fog. 

"  Good  Lord  ! "  gasped  Joe,  panic-stricken. 

"It's  Mr.  Windomshire,"  whispered 
Eleanor,  in  consternation. 

Before   she  realised  what  was  happening 


CATCH    THE    FLYER 


33 


her  companion  lifted  her  bodily  over  the 
back  of  the  seat  and  deposited  her  in  the 
bed  of  the  tonneau. 

"  Hide,  dearest,"  he  whispered.  "  Get 
under  the  storm  blankets.  He  must  not 
see  you  !  I  '11  —  I  '11  bluff  it  out  some 
way." 

"Whi —  what  is  he  doing  out  here  in  a 
machine  ?  "  she  was  whispering  wildly.  "  He 
is  pursuing  us  !  He  has  found  out  !  " 

In  the  other  car  Windomshire  —  for  it 
was  the  tall  Englishman  —  was  hoarsely 
whispering  to  some  one  beside  him  : 

"It's  Dauntless!  Hang  him  !  What's 
he  doing  here?"  Then  followed  a  hurried 
scuffling  and  subdued  whispers.  A  long 
silence,  fraught  with  an  importance  which 
the  throbbing  of  the  two  engines  was  power 
less  to  disturb,  followed  the  mutual  discovery. 
Joe's  brain  worked  the  quicker.  Disguising 
his  voice  as  best  he  could,  he  shouted 
through  the  fog: 

"  We  can't  pass  here." 

"Is  —  is  this  Cobberly  Road?"  cried 
Windomshire,  striving  to  obtain  what  he 
considered  the  American  twang. 

"No,   it's    not.      It's   O'Brien's   Lane." 


34 


THE    FLYERS 


Can't  you  back 


Then,  after  a  long  silence, 
out?" 

"  It 's  rather  —  I  mean  sorter  risky,  mis 
ter.  I  don't  know  how  far  I  'd  have  to 
back,  doncherknow  —  er,  ahem  !  " 

"  The  crossroads  can't  be  more  than  a 
hundred  yards  behind  you.  Where  are  you 
going  ? " 

"  I  'm  going  for  —  a  doctor,"  called  Win- 
domshire,  hastily. 

"  Well,  then,  we  ought  not  to  stand  here 
all  night,"  groaned  Joe,  his  ears  open  to 
catch  the  sound  of  the  locomotive's  whistle. 
There  was  no  time  to  be  lost. 

«  I  '11  —  I  '11  try  to  back  her  out,"  shouted 
Windomshire.  Eleanor  whispered  some 
thing  shrilly  and  anxiously  from  the  ton- 
neau,  and  Joe  called  out  instantly  : 

«  Who  is  ill  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  —  Mrs.  Smith,"  replied  the  other, 
bravely. 

"  Good  !  "  exclaimed  Dauntless,  heartily. 
Windomshire  was  not  in  the  least  annoyed 
by  the  lack  of  sympathy.  He  began  to 
drive  his  car  backward  by  jerks  and  jolts, 
blindly  trusting  to  luck  in  the  effort  to  reach 
the  road  which  he  had  passed  in  his  haste  a 


CATCH    THE    FLYER 


35 


few  minutes  before.  Joe  was  shouting  en 
couragement  and  pushing  slowly  forward  in 
his  own  machine.  The  noise  of  the  engines 
was  deafening. 

"  Hang  it  all,  man,  don't  blow  your  horn 
like  that !  "  roared  Windomshire  at  last,  har 
assed  and  full  of  dread.  Joe,  in  his  ab 
straction,  was  sounding  his  siren  in  a  most 
insulting  manner. 

At  last  Windomshire's  wheels  struck  a 
surface  that  seemed  hard  and  resisting.  He 
gave  a  shout  of  joy. 

"  Here  we  are  !     It 's  macadam  !  " 

"  Cobberly  Road,"  cried  Joe.  "  Back  off 
to  the  right  and  let  me  run  in  ahead.  I  'm 
- —  I  'm  in  a  devil  of  a  hurry." 

"  By  Gad,  sir,  so  am  I.  Hi,  hold  back 
there  !  Look  out  where  you  're  going,  con 
found  you  !  " 

"  Now  for  it,"  cried  Joe  to  Eleanor. 
"We've  got  the  lead;  I'll  bet  a  bun  he 
can't  catch  us."  He  had  deliberately  driven 
across  the  other's  bows,  as  it  were,  scraping 
the  wheel,  and  was  off  over  Cobberly  Road 
like  the  wind.  "  Turn  to  your  right  at  the 
next  crossing,"  he  shouted  back  to  Windom- 

O' 

shire.     Then  to  himself  hopefully:  "If  he 


36  THE   FLYERS 

does  that,  he'll  miss  Fenlock  by  three 
miles." 

They  had  covered  two  rash,  terrifying 
miles  before  a  word  was  spoken.  Then  he 
heard  her  voice  in  his  ear  —  an  anxious,  trou 
bled  voice  that  could  scarcely  be  heard  above 
the  rushing  wind. 

"  What  will  we  do  if  the  train  is  late, 
dear?  He'll  be  —  be  sure  to  catch  us." 

"  She  's  never  late.  Besides,  what  if  he 
does  catch  us  ?  We  don't  have  to  go  back, 
do  we  ?  You  're  of  age.  Brace  up  ;  be  a 
man  !  "  he  called  back  encouragingly. 

"  There  are  too  many  men  as  it  is,"  she 
wailed,  sinking  back  into  the  tonneau. 

"  Here  we  are  !  "  he  shouted,  as  the  car 
whizzed  into  a  murky,  dimly  lighted  street 
on  the  edge  of  Fenlock,  the  county  seat. 
"  There  are  the  station  lights  just  ahead." 

"  Is  the  train  in  ?  "  she  cried,  struggling 
to  her  feet  eagerly. 

"  I  think  not."  He  was  slowing  down. 
A  moment  later  the  throbbing  car  came  to  a 
stop  beside  the  railway  station  platform.  The 
lights  blinked  feebly  through  the  mist;  far 
off  in  the  night  arose  the  faint  toot  of  a 
locomotive's  whistle. 


CATCH    THE    FLYER 


37 


"  We  're  just  in  time,"  he  cried.  "  She  's 
coming.  Quick ! "  He  lifted  her  bodily 
over  the  side  of  the  car,  jerked  two  suit 
cases  from  beneath  the  curtains,  and  rushed 
frantically  to  the  shelter  of  the  platform 
sheds. 

"  I  '11  leave  you  here,  dear,"  he  was  say 
ing  rapidly.  "  Wait  a  second  ;  there  is  your 
railroad  ticket  and  your  drawing-room  ticket, 
too.  I  '11  wake  Derby  when  I  get  on  board. 
I  .have  to  run  the  automobile  down  to 
Henry's  garage  first.  Won't  take  ten  sec 
onds.  Don't  worry.  The  train  won't  be 
here  for  three  or  four  minutes.  Get  on 
board  and  go  to  sleep.  I  '11  be  two  cars 
ahead." 

"  Oh,  Joe,  won't  I  see  you  again  before 
we  start?"  she  cried  despairingly. 

"  I  '11  be  back  in  a  minute.  It 's  only  half 
a  block  to  Henry's.  All  I  have  to  do  is  to 
leave  the  car  in  front  of  his  place.  His  men 
will  look  after  it.  It 's  all  understood,  dear 
est  ;  don't  worry.  I  '11  be  here  before  the 
train,  never  fear.  Stand  here  in  the  shadow, 
dear."  He  gave  her  what  might  have  been  a 
passionate  kiss  had  it  not  been  for  the  inter 
vention  of  veil  and  goggles.  Then  he  was 


38  THE   FLYERS 

off  to  the  motor,  his  heart  thumping  fran 
tically.  Standing  as  stiff  and  motionless  as 
a  statue  against  the  damp  brick  wall,  she 
heard  the  automobile  leap  away  and  go 
pounding  down  the  street.  Apparently  she 
was  alone  on  the  platform  ;  the  ticking  of 
telegraph  instruments  came  to  her  anxious 
ears,  however,  and  she  knew  there  were  living 
people  inside  the  long,  low  building.  The 
experience  certainly  was  new  to  this  tall, 
carefully  nurtured  girl.  Never  before  had 
she  been  left  alone  at  such  an  hour  and 
place  ;  it  goes  without  saying  that  the  circum 
stances  were  unique.  Here  she  was,  standing 
alone  in  the  most  wretched  of  nights,  her 
heart  throbbing  with  a  dozen  emotions,  her 
eyes  and  ears  labouring  in  a  new  and  thrill 
ing  enterprise,  her  whole  life  poised  on  the 
social  dividing  line.  She  was  running  away 
to  marry  the  man  she  had  loved  for  years  ; 
slipping  away  from  the  knot  that  ambition 
was  trying  to  throw  over  her  rebellious  head. 
If  she  had  any  thought  of  the  past  or  the 
future,  however,  it  was  lost  among  the  fears 
and  anxieties  of  the  present.  Her  soul  was 
crying  out  for  the  approach  of  two  objects  — 
Joe  Dauntless  and  the  north-bound  flyer. 


CATCH    THE    FLYER 


39 


Her  sharp  ears  caught  the  sound  which 
told  her  that  the  motor  had  stopped  down  the 
street;  it  was  a  welcome  sound,  for  it  meant 
that  he  was  racing  back  to  the  station  — and 
just  in  time,  too;  the  flyer  was  pounding  the 
rails  less  than  half  a  mile  away. 

Fenlock  was  a  division  point  in  the  rail 
road.  The  company's  yards  and  the  train 
despatcher's  office  were  located  there.  .  'A 
huge  round-house  stood  off  to  the  righf ; 
half  a  dozen  big  headlights  glared  out  at  the 
shivering  Eleanor  like  so  many  spying,  accus 
ing  eyes.  She  knew  that  all  trains  stopped 
in  Fenlock.  Joe  had  told  her  that  the  flyer's 
pause  was  the  briefest  of  any  during  the  day 
or  night;  still  she  wondered  if  it  would  go 
thundering  through  and  spoil  everything. 

Miss  Thursdale,  watching  the  approaching 
headlight,  her  ears  filled  with  the  din  of  the 
wheels,  did  not  see  or  hear  a  second  motor 
car  rush  up  to  the  extreme  south  end  of 
the  platform.  She  was  not  thinking  of  Win- 
domshire  or  his  machine.  That  is  why  she 
failed  to  witness  an  extraordinary  incident. 

As  the  driver  leaped  from  the  car  a  second 
man  disconnected  himself  from  the  shadows, 
paused  for  a  moment  to  take  orders  from 


THE   FLYERS 

the  new  .Arrival,  and  then  jumped  into  the 
seat  just  vacated.  Whereupon  the  one-time 
driver  performed  precisely  the  same  feat  that 
Dauntless  had  performed  three  minutes  be 
fore  him.  He  jerked  forth  a  couple  of  bags 
and  then  proceeded  to  lift  from  the  tonneau 
of  the  car  a  vague  but  animate  something, 
which,  an  instant  later,  resolved  itself  into 
the  form  of  a  woman  at  his  side. 

"  I  've  settled  with  the  company,  Mead- 
ers,"  hurriedly  announced  Windomshire  to 
the  man  on  the  seat.  "  The  car  is  in  your 
hands  now." 

"Yes,  sir;  I  understand.  Your  week  is 
up  to-night.  Hope  it  was  satisfactory,  sir." 
The  car  shot  off  in  the  night,  almost  running 
down  a  man  who  scudded  across  the  street 
in  its  path. 

"Just  in  time,  Anne,"  said  Windomshire 
to  the  tall,  hooded  figure  beside  him. 
"  Thank  God,  we  did  n't  miss  it." 

"  Has  n't  it  been  good  sport,  Harry  ?  " 
cried  the  young  woman,  with  an  unmistak 
ably  English  inflection.  "  It's  just  like  a 
book." 

"  Only  more  so,"  he  observed.  "  This  has 
really  happened,  you  know.  Things  never 


D 


CATCH    THE    FLYER  41 

really  happen   in  books,    don't   you    know. 
You've  not  lost  your  tickets,  dear?" 

"  No  ;  they  do  that  only  in  books.    Really, 
I  'm   trembling    like  a  leaf.      I   can't   realise 


that  it  is  all  taking  place  as  we  planned,  and 
that  I  am  to  be  your  wife  after  all.  Ah, 
Harry  !  is  n't  it  splendid  ?  " 

"  'Gad,  little  woman,  I  am  the  one  who 
has  n't  the  right  to  realise.  By  Jove,  I 
did  n't  give  myself  credit  for  the  cleverness 
to  fool  every  one  so  neatly.  Really,  don't 
you  know,  however,  I  feel  a  bit  sorry  for 
Miss  Thursdale.  She 's  a  ripping  good 
sort,  and  I  'm  sorry  on  that  account." 

Miss  Courtenay  —  erstwhile  governess  — 
took  hold  of  the  lapels  of  his  raincoat  and 
looked  seriously  up  into  his  face.  "  Are  you 
sure  you  '11  never  regret  giving  her  up  for 
me  —  with  all  her  money  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  say,  Anne  dear,  it's  I  who  am 
running  away,  not  you.  I  've  always  wanted 
you  —  all  my  life.  I  've  been  something  of 
a  cad—  " 

"  It  was  n't  your  fault.  Mrs.  Thursdale 
was  bound  to  h 


you. 


way. 


"  It  hurts  my  pride  to  say  it,  but  hanged 
if  I  think  —  er  —  Eleanor  was  very  strong 


D 


THE    FLYERS 


/>]   for  the  match.      I  've  a  notion  she  was  bullied 
into  it." 

"  I  'm  quite  sure  of  it." 

"  You  're  doing  her  a  good  turn,  my  dear. 
You  see,  I  could  n't  love  her,  and  I  'd  proba 
bly  have  beaten  her  and  all  that.  It  was  n't  as 
if  I  had  to  marry  her  for  her  money.  Deuce 
take  it,  I  've  got  a  few  pounds  of  my  own." 

"  I  'm  only  Anne  Courtenay,  the  gov 
erness." 

"  You  '11  be  Lady  Windomshire  some  day, 
my  word  for  it — if  the  other  chaps  manage 
to  die,  God  bless  'em.  I  say,  here's  the 
train.  Good-night,  dear,  up  you  go  !  I  '11 
go  up  ahead.  Don't  forget !  The  wedding  's 
at  noon  to-morrow." 

The  long,  shadowy  train  came  to  a  stop. 
He  elbowed  the  porter  aside  and  helped  her 
up  the  steps.  Neither  of  them  noticed  the 
vague  figure  which  rushed  across  the  plat 
form  and  into  the  second  car  below. 

"Where's  the  luggage  car?"  shouted 
Windomshire  to  the  porter. 

"The  what?  " 

"  I  mean  the  baggage  van." 

"  Way    up     front,     sir.      Where   the) 
puttin'  on  the  trunks,  sir." 


V 


CATCH    THE   FLYER 


43 


Swinging  his  travelling  bag  almost  at  arm's 
length,  the  long  Englishman  raced  forward. 
His  own  and  Miss  Courtenay's  pieces  had 
come  over  during  the  afternoon,  skilfully 
smuggled  out  of  the  Thursdale  house.  Just 
as  he  reached  the  baggage  truck  a  panting, 
mud-covered  individual  dashed  up  from  the 
opposite  direction,  madly  rushing  for  the 
train.  They  tried  to  avoid  a  collision,  but 
failed.  A  second  later  the  two  men  were 
staring  into  each  other's  eyes,  open-mouthed 
and  dismayed. 

"  Hello  !  "  gasped  Dauntless,  staggered. 

"  What  the  devil,  sir,  do-  My  word  ! 
It's  Dauntless  !  "  sputtered  Windomshire. 

"  Where  is  she?  "  shouted  Joe,  convinced 
that  his  rival  had  captured  his  runaway  fiancee 
and  was  now  confronting  him  for  explanation. 

"Confound  you,  sir,  it's  none  of  your 
business,"  roared  Windomshire,  confident 
that  Dauntless  had  been  sent  by  Mrs.  Thurs 
dale  to  intercept  him  in  his  flight  with  the 
governess.  "  Damn  your  impudence!" 

"  Stand  aside,  Windomshire,"  exclaimed 
Joe,  white  with  anger  and  dread.  "  I  'm 
to  find  her.  What  have  vou  done 


roim 


with  her? 


you 


44 


THE    FLYERS 


"  You  sha'n't  interfere,  Dauntless,"  cried 
Windomshire,  squaring  himself.  "  She  's 
going  to  be  my  wife,  and  —  " 

"  I  guess  not !     Get  out  of  my  way,  or  —  " 

"She's  on  that  train,  confound  you,  and 
I'm  going  away  with  her  whether  you  like 
it  or  not  —  or  anybody  else,  for  that  matter," 
said  Windomshire,  refusing  to  budge  an  inch. 

"Well,  you'll  have  a  damned  hard  time 
getting  rid  of  me,"  roared  Joe,  trying  to 
break  past  his  rival.  A  baggage-man  leaped 
between  them  in  time  to  prevent  blows.  He 
held  the  angry,  mistaken  rivals  apart, — 
rivals  no  longer,  if  they  only  knew.  "  Let 
go  of  me!  Hold  this  fellow  and  I'll  give 
you  a  hundred  dollars  —  hold  him  till  the 
train  goes  !" 

"Hold  me,  will  you?  My  word!  What 
is  this  ?  A  highway  robbery  !  " 

Both  men  broke  away  from  the  baggage 
man  and  rushed  frantically  down  the  line  of 
cars,  each  trying  to  hold  the  other  back. 
Joe  succeeded  in  grasping  the  handrail  of  the 
first  sleeping-car,  but  his  adversary  pulled 
him  away.  An  instant  later  they  were  strug 
gling  across  the  station  platform,  clasped  in 
savage  and  hysterical  combat.  The  station 


Eleanor  was  still  sitting  .    .    .  stiff  and  silent 


CATCH    THE    FLYER 


45 


employees  were  rushing  up  to  separate  them 
when  the  train  began  to  move  slowly  away. 

They  came  to  their  senses  a  moment  later 
to  find  themselves  held  firmly  by  brawny 
peacemakers,  the  black  cars  rushing  swiftly 
by  without  them. 

Forgetting  the  battle  so  inopportunely 
begun,  they  started  off  madly  in  pursuit, 
shouting,  yelling,  commanding.  But  the 
flyer  was  deaf  to  their  cries,  callous  against 
their  tears.  It  whistled  off  into  the  north, 
carrying  two  trusting,  nervous  young  women, 
who  were  secure  in  the  belief  that  their  liege 
lords  to  be  were  aboard,  utterly  unconscious 
of  the  true  state  of  affairs.  In  the  drawing- 
room  of  Car  5  Eleanor  was  still  sitting,  with 
her  veil  down,  her  raincoat  saturating  the 
couch  on  which  she  sat  stiff"  and  silent. 
Anne  Courtenay  in  Car  7  was  philosophic 
ally  preparing  for  bed,  absolutely  confident 
that  the  Englishman  she  had  loved  for  years 
was  not  going  to  fail  her. 

Windomshire,  alas,  came  to  grief  in  his 
useless  pursuit.  He  fell  off  the  end  of  the 
platform  and  rolled  in  the  mud,  half  stunned. 
When  he  painfully  picked  himself  up,  he 
saw  Dauntless  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the 


46  THE   FLYERS 

walk,  his  haggard,  staring  face  lighted  by  the 
glare  of  a  sympathetic  lantern.  The  station 
agent  was  offering  vain  but  well-intended 
commiseration. 

"  Good  God  ! "  he  heard  Joe  groan,  but 
he  did  not  catch  the  words,  "  she  's  gone 
without  me  !  " 

The  next  instant  the  distracted  eloper  was 
on  his  feet  demanding  a  special  engine. 

"  I  've  got  to  have  it  !  "  he  shouted. 

Windomshire's  wits  returned.  Why  not 
have  a  special  too  ?  It  was  the  only  way. 

"  You  can  order  one  for  me,  too,"  he  ex 
claimed.  "  At  once.  It 's  imperative." 


CHAPTER    III 

THE   MORNING    AFTER 

THE  sun  was  peeping  over  the  hill 
tops  and  shooting  his  merry  glance 
across  the  rain-soaked  lowlands 
when  Eleanor  Thursdale  awoke  from  her 
final  snatch  of  slumber.  A  hundred  feverish 
lapses  into  restless  subconsciousness  had 
marked  the  passage  of  nearly  as  many  miles 
of  clatter  and  turmoil.  Never  before  had 
she  known  a  train  to  be  so  noisy  ;  never  be 
fore  had  she  lain  awake  long  enough  to  make 
the  natural  discovery.  It  seemed  hours  be 
fore  she  dropped  off  in  the  first  surrender  to 
sleep  ;  it  seemed  hours  between  the  succeed 
ing  falls.  Her  brain  and  heart  were  waging 
the  most  relentless  battle  against  peace  and 
security.  She  knew  Joe  Dauntless  was  but 
two  cars  ahead,  and  yet  she  wondered  if 


48  THE   FLYERS 

were  really  there ;  she  wondered  and  was 
troubled  —  oh,  so  troubled. 

Daylight  was  creeping  in  beneath  the  cur 
tain  of  the  window.  She  stretched  her  fine, 
tired  young  body,  and  for  the  first  time  really 
felt  like  going  to  sleep.  The  perversity  of 
early  morning !  Gradually  it  dawned  upon 
her  that  the  train  was  not  moving ;  as  far 
back  as  she  could  recall  in  her  now  wakeful 
spell  it  occurred  to  her  that  the  cars  had 
been  standing  still  and  that  everything  was 
as  quiet  as  death.  She  looked  at  her  watch  ; 
it  was  six  o'clock. 

"  Goodness  ! "  she  thought,  sitting  up 
suddenly,  "  what  is  the  matter  ?  "  The  cur 
tain  flew  up  and  her  startled  eyes  blinked 
out  upon  the  glaring  world. 

There  was  not  a  house  in  sight  as  far  as 

o 

her  eyes  could  range  forward  and  behind. 
Instead,  a  wide  sweep  of  farm  lands  partially 
submerged  by  the  flood  water  of  many  rains. 
Far  away  there  were  brown  hills  and  a  long 
army  of  tall  trees  standing  at  attention,  —  a 
bleak  prospect  despite  the  cheery  intentions 
of  the  sun,  which  lurked  behind  the  hills. 
Despondent  cornstalks  of  last  year's  growth 
stood  guard  over  the  soggy  fields;  drenched, 


THE    MORNING    AFTER 


49 


D 


unhappy  tufts  of  grass,  and  forlorn  but  tri 
umphant  reeds  arose  here  and  there  from 
the  watery  wastes,  asserting  their  victory 
over  a  dismantled  winter.  It  was  not  a  glo 
rious  view  that  met  the  gaze  of  the  bride  on 
her  wedding  morn. 

Strangest  of  all,  the  train  was  so  quiet,  so 
utterly  inactive,  that  an  absurd  feeling  of  lone 
liness  grew  upon  her,  gradually  developing 
into  the  alarming  certainty  that  she  was  the 
only  living  person  in  the  world.  Then  she 
heard  men's  voices  outside  of  the  window ; 
her  relief  was  almost  hysterical.  Scrambling 
out  of  the  berth,  she  began  a  hasty,  nervous 
toilet.  Three  sharp  pushes  on  the  button 
brought  the  company's  ladies'  maid  —  ad 
vertised  as  a  part  of  the  luxury  and  refine 
ment  which  made  the  flyer  "  the  finest  train 
in  the  world." 

"  What  has  happened  ?  Where  are  we  ?  " 
she  demanded,  upon  the  entrance  of  the 
sleepy  young  coloured  woman. 

"  The  Pride  River  bridge  is  washed  away, 
ma'am,"  said  the  maid.  "  We  can't  go  on 
no  furder." 

"  Dear  me,"  sighed  Eleanor,  turning  to 
be  buttoned  at  the  back.  "  And  where  is 


50  THE   FLYERS 

Pride  River  bridge  —  or  where  was  it,  I 
mean  ? " 

"  'Bout  twenty  mile  south  of  Omegon, 
ma'am  —  miss.  The  river's  a  sight  —  high 
est  'at  it's  ever  been  known.  It's  all  over 
the  bottoms.  This  here  train  came  mighty 
nigh  running  into  it,  too.  A  boy  flagged  it 
just  in  time,  'bout  five  o'clock." 

"  Have  we  been  standing  here  a  whole 
hour?" 

"  Yes,  miss ;  right  here.  They  say  we 
can't  go  back  till  the  section  boss  has  exam 
ined  the  track  in  Baxter's  Cut.  Seems  as 
though  there's  some  danger  of  a  washout 
back  yander." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  we  are  likely  to 
stay  here  indefinitely  ? "  gasped  Eleanor. 
"  Ouch  !  Be  careful,  please  !  " 

"  Oh,  it  won't  be  long.  The  porter  says 
they've  sent  back  over  the  line  to  telegraft 
for  the  section  men." 

"Good  Heavens,  is  there  no  station 
here?" 

"  No,  ma'am  ;  five  miles  back.  They  's 
one  jest  across  the  river,  but  it  might  as  well 
be  in  Africa." 

"  Be  quick,  please,  and  then  send  the  con- 


THE    MORNING   AFTER 


ductor  to  me  —  and  the  porter  too,"  urged  .x.. 
Eleanor,  in  distress.  \\ 

The  porter  was  the  first  to  arrive. 

"  Porter,  will  you  go  to  Car  7  and  see  if 
the  occupant  of  lower  4  is  awake  ?  I  am 
quite  sure  that  is  right,  but  if  it  should  hap 
pen  to  be  wrong,  please  let  me  know  at  once." 

"  Yes,  miss  ;  and  what  shall  I  tell  her?  " 

"Ahem!  It 's  a — a  gentleman.  Ask  him 
to  —  to  come  to  the  rear  end  of  the  train. 
That's  all.  Oh,  conductor,  how  soon  will 
we  be  on  the  track  again  ?  "  The  conductor 
was  standing  in  the  door,  evidently  impressed 
by  the  summons  from  the  drawing-room. 

"  We  're  not  off  the  track,  madam.  There 
is  no  danger  — just  a  little  delay.  I  have 
telegraphed  to  see  if  I  can  have  a  relief  train 
come  down  from  Omegon  and  pick  us  up 
after  we  've  been  ferried  across  the  river." 

"  This  is  the  very  worst  road  I  Ve  ever    v 
travelled  over  —  the  very  worst,"  was  Elea 
nor's  natural  complaint.     "  When  will  that 
get  us  to  Omegon?" 

"  We  should  be  there  in  an  hour  after 
leaving  here." 

"  And   when    did    vou    sav    we  'd 


here  ? 


52  THE    FLYERS 

"  I  did  n't  say.      I  don't  know." 

"  Who  does  know,  if  you  don't  ?  "  de 
manded  Eleanor. 

"  God,  I  presume,"  observed  the  harassed 
conductor,  turning  away  with  the  realisation 
that  he  had  erred  in  coming  to  her  in  the 
first  place.  The  porter  returned  at  that 
moment. 

"  Nobody  in  that  section,  ma'am.  It  was 
sold,  but  the  party  did  n't  show  up." 

"  Good  Heavens,  you  —  but  he  did  show 
up.  I  —  I  know  he  did.  Look  again.  Try 
• —  but  wait !  Ask  for  Mr.  Dauntless.  Ask 
quietly,  please." 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

Her  nerves  at  highest  tension,  Miss  Thurs- 
dale  made  her  way  toward  the  rear  platform 
of  the  train.  She  passed  down  the  curtained 
aisles  of  two  coaches,  wondering  how  people 
could  sleep  so  soundly  in  a  crisis  like  this. 
A  porter  politely  opened  a  door  and  she 
slipped  out  upon  the  last  platform.  As  far 
as  the  eye  could  reach  stretched  the*  roadbed 
and  its  telegraph  poles,  finally  disappearing 
in  the  haze  of  the  morning.  Wide-spread 
flood,  soaking  the  flat  — 

A  sharp  cry  of  amazement  came  from  the 


THE    MORNING    AFTER 


53 


track  just  below  her.  She  looked  down  and 
into  the  eyes  of  Anne  Courtenay,  the  gov 
erness.  For  a  full  minute  they  stared  blankly 
at  each  other,  apparently  bereft  of  all  the 
agencies  that  fall  to  the  lot  of  woman. 

"  Miss  Courtenay!  "  finally  came  from  the 
lips  of  the  girl  on  the  platform. 

"  Miss  Thursdale  !  "  murmured  Anne, 
reaching  out  to  support  herself  against  the 
bumper.  Other  words  failed  to  come  for 
the  time  being.  In  sheer  despair,  neither 
could  accomplish  more  than  a  pallid  smile. 
To  the  reader  is  left  the  privilege  of  analys 
ing  the  thoughts  which  surged  through  the 
brains  of  the  bewildered  young  women,  — 
the  fears,  the  doubts,  the  resentments. 

"  Where  --  where  have  you  been  ?  "  at 
last  fell  from  Miss  Thursdale's  lips. 

"  Been  ?  "  repeated  Miss  Courtenay, 
vaguely.  "  Oh,  yes ;  I  Ve  been  taking  a 
walk  —  a  constitutional.  I  always  do." 

Eleanor  stared  harder  than  ever.  "  All 
this  distance  ?  "  she  murmured. 

"  Down  the  track  for  half  a  mile,  Miss 
Thursdale." 

"  Are  — were  you  on  this  train  ?  "  ejaculated 
Eleanor. 


54 


THE    FLYERS 


"  Yes  —  but  I  -  -  I  -  "  stammered  Anne, 
her  face  growing  red  with  rising  resentment. 
"  I  did  not  think  this  of  you." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?  It  is —  May  I 
ask  why  you  are  here,  Miss  Courtenay  ?  It 
is  most  extraordinary." 

"  It  is  very  easily  explained,"  said  Miss 
Courtenay,  after  a  moment's  battle  with  ve 
racity.  "  My  aunt  is  very  ill  in  Vancouver." 
To  herself  she  was  saying:  "  I  must  keep 
her  from  really  seeing  Harry.  She  knows 
what  he  has  done  —  in  heaven's  name,  how 
could  she  have  found  it  out  ?  —  and  she  is 
waiting  to  catch  us  if  she  can.  She  has  fol 
lowed  us !  Thank  goodness,  I  've  seen  her 
first." 

Eleanor  was  not  blessed  with  the  possi 
bility  of  such  an  explanation  for  Anne's 
presence;  she  could  only  believe  that  the 
governess  had  been  suddenly  called  to  the 
bedside  of  her  aunt  —  a  real  person,  she 
happened  to  know,  and  very  rich.  But  how 
was  she  to  account  for  her  own  astonishing 
departure  from  home?  Miss  Courtenay  had 
seen  her  at  dinner ;  nothing  had  been  said 
regarding  "  an  unexpected  journey."  In 
truth,  Eleanor  remembered  with  inflexible  ac- 


THE    MORNING    AFTER 


55 


curacy  that  she  had  announced  her  intention 
to  go  to  bed  with  a  headache.  Then,  what 
must  Miss  Courtenay  be  thinking  at  this 
very  instant? 

An  inspiration  came  to  her  like  a  flash. 
"I  —  I  am  running  away,  Miss  Courtenay," 
she  cried,  with  a  brave  attempt  to  appear 
nai've. 

"  I  don't  understand,"  murmured  poor 
Anne. 

"  Of  course  you  don't,"  said  Eleanor,  in 
spiration  heaping  itself  up  within  her.  "  Not 
really,  you  know,  but  just  for  a  few  days' 
rest.  Mother  thinks  I  'm  looking  wretch 
edly.  We  didn't  say  anything  about  it  — 
except  to  Mr.  Windomshire,  of  course.  He 
knows.  Perhaps  he  will  run  up  to  Omegon 
in  a  day  or  two  to  see  me.  It's  very  quiet 
there,  and  I  '11  get  a  good  rest.  The  hotel 
is  delightful  —  facing  the  lake.  And  the 
bathing 's  good.  Dear  me,  I  'm  so  sorry 
about  your  aunt."  Miss  Courtenay's  eyes 
actually  blinked  with  perplexity.  This  was  a 
most  staggering  bit  of  news.  Eleanor  flushed 
painfully  under  the  gaze  of  the  other;  utter 
rout  followed.  She  stammered  some  flimsy 
excuse  and  dashed  back  into  the  car.  To 


56  THE   FLYERS 

herself  she  was  crying:  "  I  must  find  Joe 
and  tell  him  to  keep  out  of  sight.  Oh,  how 
awful  this  is  !  " 

Just  inside  the  door  she  met  her  porter. 

"  There 's  nobody  named  Dauntless  on 
the  train,  miss.  A  gentleman  who  said  he 
was  his  friend  thinks  he  missed  the  train 
perhaps." 

"  He  —  he  —  oh,  I  see  !  "  said  Eleanor, 
suddenly  perceiving  method  in  Joe's  reluc 
tance  to  answer  to  his  own  name.  "  Thank 
you.  That's  all."  Then  to  herself:  "  He 
has  seen  Miss  Courtenay,  and  she  hasrit 
seen  him,  —  that 's  plain."  She  handed  the 
porter  a  coin. 

"  I  went  to  the  berth  you  mentioned, 
ma'am,  and  I  asked  through  the  curtains  : 
*  Is  Mr.  Dauntless  in  here?'  There  was  a 
lady  in  the  upper,  miss,  an' -  -  an'  —  well, 
I  '11  never  forget  what  she  said  to  me." 
Eleanor  had  gone  before  he  concluded,  de 
termined  to  unearth  her  cautious  lover,  if 
possible. 

Anne  caught  the  porter  before  he  could 
follow. 

"  See  here,  porter,"  she  whispered  softly, 
"  go  to  Car  5,  section  6,  and  call  its  oc- 


£> 


THE    MORNING   AFTER 


57 


cupant.     Tell  him  not  to  get  up.     Do  you 
understand  ?     Not  to   get  up  !  " 

It  goes  without  saying,  of  course,  that  all 
efforts,  secret  or  otherwise,  failed  to  locate 
the  missing  men.  The  distracted  brides, 
each  trying  to  run  away  from  the  other  in 
a  way,  were  in  a  state  of  collapse,  necessar 
ily  subdued  but  most  alarming.  The  Rev. 
Henry  Derby,  a  nice-looking  young  fellow, 
who  looked  more  like  a  tennis  player  than  a 
minister  of  the  gospel,  eventually  identified 
his  old  friend's  ladye  faire,  and  introduced 
himself  with  a  discreetness  that  proved  him 
to  have  been  in  college  at  the  proper  period 
and  in  a  somewhat  different  class  from  that 
which  he  now  sought  to  lead.  In  the  pri 
vacy  of  her  drawing-room  the  bewitching 
but  distressed  young  woman  discussed  the 
situation  with  the  man  who  had  been  chosen 
to  perform  the  clandestine  ceremony  in  the 
far-away  town  of  Omegon.  Derby,  coming 
on  from  his  eastern  home  in  loyal  acquies 
cence  to  his  friend's  request,  had  designedly 
taken  this  train,  it  being  understood  that 
Dauntless  would  board  it  at  Fenlock  with 
his  fair  conspirator.  We  all  know  why 
Dauntless  failed  to  perform  his  part  of  the 


D 


THE    FLYERS 


'i 


agreement;  Derby,  with  the  perspicuity  of  a 
college  man,  finally  advanced  a  reason  for  his 
inexplicable  failure  to  appear.  Eleanor  had 
begun  tearfully  to  accuse  him  of  abandoning 
her  at  the  last  moment ;  Mr.  Derby  indig 
nantly  scouted  the  idea.  When  she  related 
their  chase  in  the  motor  and  their  escape  from 
Windomshire,  he  formed  his  conclusions,  and 
they  were  in  the  main  remarkably  correct. 

"  I  'm  afraid,  Miss  Thursdale,  that  your 
disappointed  lover,  our  ancient  enemy,  the 
Englishman,  was  not  to  be  overcome  so 
neatly.  Has  it  occurred  to  you  that  he  may 
have  reached  Fenlock  before  the  train  left, 
and  that  he  is  the  explanation  for  Joe's  non- 
appearance  ?  " 

"  You  —  you  don't  mean  that  he  has 
killed  — "  she  was  gasping,  growing  whiter 
and  whiter.  He  hastened  to  reassure  her. 

"  Oh,  no;  not  so  bad  as  that.  But  it  is 
possible  and  quite  probable  that  he  —  if,  as 
you  say,  he  was  on  to  your —  I  should  say, 
aware  of  your  flight,  it  is  probable  that  he 
succeeded  in  detaining  Joe  in  Fenlock.  That 
would  —  " 

"Impossible!  Joe  wouldn't  let  him!" 
she  cried  indignantly. 


THE    MORNING   AFTER 


59 


"  Perhaps  Joe  could  n't  help  himself. 
Such  things  happen.  At  any  rate,  you  '11  un 
derstand,  the  despised  enemy  could  have  — " 

"  Mr.  Windomshire  is  not  a  despised 
enemy.  He  's  a  'very  nice  man,  Mr.  Derby," 
she  interrupted. 

"  Certainly,  Miss  Thursdale.  What  I 
meant  to  say  was,  that  he  was  morally  sure 
of  preventing  the  wedding  if  he  could  only 
keep  you  far  enough  apart.  Now  that  is 
probably  what  he  has  done.  You  can't  marry 
Joe  in  Omegon  or  anywhere  else  unless  he 
is  there  and  not  in  Fenlock." 

"  I  see.  Well,  I  '11  go  back  to  Fenlock  ! " 
she  exclaimed  emphatically,  a  little  line  of  de 
termination  and  stubbornness  settling  about 
the  erstwhile  trembling  lips. 

"  I  admire  your  loyalty,"  he  said  warmly. 
"  Just  at  present,  however,  we  are  water- 
bound  here,  and  we  Ve  got  to  make  the  best 
of  it.  I  fancy  Joe  will  telegraph  before 
long." 

"  If— if  he  has  n't  been  hurt.  Oh,  Mr. 
Derby,  they  may  have  fought.  It  would  be 
just  like  them.  It  may  be  dreadfully  seri 
ous.  You  don't  know  as  much  about  men 
as  I  do.  They  're  terribly  —  " 


6o 


THE    FLYERS 


"  Please  don't  worry,  Miss  Thursdale," 
he  said,  smiling  in  recollection  of  his  foot 
ball  days.  "You  '11  find  there's  been  noth 
ing  bloody  about  all  this.  The  delay  is 
vexatious,  but  only  temporary,  I  'm  sure." 

"  I  '11  marry  Joe  Dauntless  now  if  it  has 
to  be  delayed  a  hundred  years,"  she  cried, 
her  eyes  flashing. 

During  the  next  half-hour  poor  Derby 
ran  errands,  carried  messages  and  complaints 
to  every  one  of  the  train  men,  finally  adminis 
tering  smelling  salts  when  it  occurred  to 
Eleanor  that  Joe  might  have  fallen  off  the 
train  during  the  night. 

In  the  meantime  Anne  Courtenay  was 
having  a  sad  half-hour  of  it.  She  had  no 
one  to  turn  to,  no  one  to  think  it  all  out  for 
her  ;  she  was  alone  and  in  great  despair.  The 
porter  had  failed  to  find  the  tall  Englishman  ; 
the  conductor  had  been  equally  unsuccessful  ; 
she  herself  had  searched  in  vain.  His  trunks 
and  hers  were  in  the  baggage  car,  she  found, 
but  there  was  no  sign  of  the  man  himself. 
She  was  a  self-reliant,  sensible  young  woman, 
accustomed  to  the  rigours  of  the  world,  but 
this  was  quite  too  overwhelming.  The  pres 
ence  on  the  train  of  the  girl  that  she  had,  to 


THE    MORNING   AFTER 


61 


all  intents  and  purposes,  cruelly  deceived, 
did  not  add  to  her  comfort.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  she  was  quite  fond  of  Eleanor;  they 
were  warm  friends  despite  the  vagaries  of 
love.  Miss  Courtenay,  among  other  things, 
began  to  wonder,  as  she  sat  in  her  tumbled 
berth,  if  retribution  had  more  to  do  with 
this  than  chance. 

"  Could  he  have  fallen  off  the  train  ?  " 
she  wondered,  with  a  sudden  chill  of  appre 
hension.  The  next  instant  she  was  calling  to 
the  porter.  "  Send  the  conductor  to  me  at 
once.  My  friend  has  fallen  off  the  train — out 
of  his  window,  perhaps.  I  am  quite  sure  of  it. 
I  want  an  engine  to  go  back  and  look  for  him. 
Hurry,  please  !  don't  stand  there  grinning." 

The  Pullman  conductor  came  up  at  that 
moment. 

"  Are  you  the  young  lady  who  was  asking 
for  Mr.  Dauntless?"  he  asked. 

"  Dauntless  ?  "  she  murmured.  "  No,  I  'm 
asking  for  an  engine.  Have  you  — 

"  There  's  another  young  lady  asking  for 
an  engine,  too,  madam.  It's  impossible." 

"  Am  I  to  understand  that  I  shall  have  to 
walk  ?  -  Oh,"  with  a  sudden  start,  "  is  — 
is  there  a  Mr.  Dauntless  missing  too?" 


62 


THE    FLYERS 


"  Seems  so.      He's  gone." 

Anne  dropped  the  curtains  in  his  face,  and 
then  stared  at  them  for  a  long  time.  Grad 
ually  she  began  to  comprehend.  A  panic  of 
fear  came  over  her. 

"  They  have  met  somewhere  and  quar 
relled  !  Mr.  Dauntless  was  jealous  —  terri 
bly  so.  He  may  have  —  good  Heavens  ! 
-  he  may  have  killed  him  in  the  mistaken 
idea  that  Harry  was  running  away  with 
Eleanor.  She's  on  this  very  train!  It's 
perfectly  natural.  Porter,"  she  called, 
"  there  has  been  foul  play  ! " 

"  Gee,  miss  !  That 's  what  the  other  lady 
is  saying  !" 

"  The  other  —  then  it  is  a  double  murder  ! 
Don't  laugh!  It's  — it's - 

"  Don't  cry,  miss  ;  it 's  all  right."  She 
looked  at  him  piteously  for  a  moment,  and 
then  smiled  at  the  absurdity  of  her  conjecture. 

A  tousled  head  came  from  between  the 
curtains  of  the  upper  berth  opposite,  and  a 
sleepy,  hoarse  voice  demanded  : 

"  How  long  will  we  be  here  ?     What 's  the 


THE    MORNING   AFTER          63 

"  The  devil  we  are  !  Say,  I  've  got  to  be 
in  Omegon  by  ten  o'clock.  I  '11  sue  this  in 
fernal  road,"  snarled  the  irascible  party,  snap 
ping  the  curtains  together.  It  transpired  that 
he  was  an  agent  for  a  medical  college,  travel 
ling  to  Omegon  on  a  most  unwholesome  but 
edifying  mission.  He  was  going  up  to  take 
possession  of  the  body  of  a  man  who  had 
willed  his  carcass  to  the  school.  As  the  poor 
chap  was  not  yet  dead,  but  hopelessly  ill,  the 
desire  for  haste  on  the  part  of  the  agent  may 
be  misunderstood.  It  seems,  however,  that 
there  was  some  talk  of  interference  by  rela 
tives  —  and  the  disquieting  prospect  of  a 
new  will. 

"  If  I  were  you,  miss,"  counselled  the  por 
ter,  "  I  'd  go  out  and  take  a  little  walk.  The 
sun  is  up,  an'  it's  fine.  The  relief  train  will 
be  here 'fore  long  —  an' you  all  will  be  rowed 
acrost  the  river.  Don't  worry." 

"  But  I  want  to  go  back  the  way  I  came," 
expostulated  Anne,  feebly.  "  I  can't  go  on 
without  —  until  I  know  what  has  happened 
to  —  to  Mr.  Windomshire."  She  took  his 
advice,  however,  and  made  her  way  to  the 
rear  platform. 

A  number  of  disgruntled  passengers  were 


64 


THE    FLYERS 


now  abroad,  and  complaining  bitterly  of  the 
delay.  There  was  no  hope  of  breakfast  until 
the  train  reached  Omegon,  where  a  dining 
car  was  waiting.  She  stood  on  the  platform 
and  looked  gloomily  back  over  the  long 
stretch  of  roadbed. 

"  Is  n't  that  an  engine  coming  ?  "  some  one 
asked  excitedly  at  her  side.  She  turned  and 
found  Miss  Thursdale,  attended  by  a  gentle 
man,  to  whom  the  question  was  addressed. 

"I  believe  —  yes,  it  is,  Miss  Thursdale." 

"Then  —  then  we'll  all  betaken  back  to 
the  city,"  she  said  dejectedly. 

"  I  fancy  not.  It 's  probably  bringing 
relief." 

"  They  —  they  may  be  bringing  bad 
news,"  Eleanor  groaned.  "  Oh,  Miss  Courte- 
nay,  how  do  you  do  —  again?  How  is  your 
—  your  grandmother,  was  n't  it  ?  " 

"I--I--yes,  1  think  so  —  I  mean,  I 
think  she  's  no  better.  They  may  be  bring 
ing  his  body  !  "  said  the  other  girl,  her  eyes 
fixed  on  the  distant  locomotive. 

"  Oh  !  "  almost  screamed  Eleanor,  and 
stared  wildly  without  words. 

A  brakeman  far  down  the  track  was  flag 
ging  the  locomotive  ;  it  came  to  a  stop,  and 


a 


D 


THE    MORNING   AFTER 


65 

several  men  were  seen  climbing  down  from 
the  cab.  Two  of  them  eventually  disen 
gaged  themselves  from  the  little  group  and 
hurried  forward.  One  was  carrying  a  suit 
case,  and  both  walked  as  though  they  were 
either  in  pain  or  attended  by  extreme  old  age. 

"  Why  —  why  -  "  gasped  Eleanor,  "  it 's 
Joe!" 

"  And  —  yes,  thank  God,  it 's  Har —  Mr. 
Windomshire,"  almost  shrieked  Anne. 

Then  they  turned  and  looked  at  each 
other  in  confusion.  Neither  had  the  courage 
to  carry  out  the  desire  to  fly  to  the  arms  of 
the  man  she  longed  to  see  more  than  all  else 
in  :he  world.  They  felt  themselves  to  be 
caught  red-handed. 


CHAPTER    IV 

MRS.   VAN  TRUDER  INTRUDES 

NONE  but  the  most  eager,  loving 
eyes  could  possibly  have  recognised 
the  newcomers.  It  is  not  unlikely 
that  the  remaining  passengers  mistook  them 
for  tramps.  The  rivals,  morbidly  suspicious  of 
each  other,  taciturn  to  the  point  of  unfriendli 
ness,  had  indeed  chartered  a  locomotive —  not 
jointly  by  intention,  but  because  of  provok 
ing  necessity.  There  was  but  one  engine 
to  be  had.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  while  they 
travelled  many  sore  and  turbulent  miles  in 
close  proximity  to  each  other,  neither  felt 
called  upon  to  offer  or  to  demand  an 
explanation. 

Five  hours  in  the  tender  of  an  engine  had 
done  much  to  reduce  them  to  the  level  of 
the  men  in  the  cab,  so  far  as  personal  ap- 


MRS.    VAN    TRUDER  67 

pearance  was  concerned.  They  were  still 
wearing  their  raincoats,  much  crumpled  and 
discoloured ;  their  faces  were  covered  with 
coal  dust ;  they  were  wet,  bedraggled,  and 
humble  to  the  last  degree.  The  American, 
naturally,  was  the  one  who  clung  to  his  suit 
case  ;  he  had  foreseen  the  need  for  a  change 
of  linen.  They  came  toward  the  train  with 
hesitating,  uncertain  steps.  If  their  souls 
were  gladdened  by  the  sight  of  the  two  young 
women,  general  appearances  failed  to  make 
record  of  it.  It  was  noted  by  those  who 
watched  their  approach  that  once  both  of 
them  stopped  short  and  seemed  to  waver  in 
their  determination  to  advance.  That  was 
when  each  became  suddenly  aware  of  the 
presence  of  an  unexpected  girl.  Naturally, 
the  Englishman  was  seriously  staggered. 
The  unexplained  Eleanor  appeared  before  his 
very  eyes  as  an  accusing  nemesis  ;  it  is  no 
wonder  that  his  jaw  dropped  and  his  befud 
dled  brain  took  to  whirling. 

The  girls,  less  regardful  of  appearances, 
climbed  down  from  the  platform  and  started 
forward  to  meet  their  knights-errant.  The 
reader  may  readily  appreciate  the  feelings  of 
the  quartette.  Not  one  of  them  knew  just 


68 


THE    FLYERS 


precisely  how  much  or  how  little  the  others 
knew ;  they  were  precariously  near  to  being 
lost  in  the  labyrinth.  Something  intangible 
but  regular  urged  Windomshire  to  be  politic  ; 
he  advanced  to  meet  Eleanor  as  if  it  were  her 
due.  Anne  fell  back,  perplexed  and  hurt. 

"  Hang  it  all,"  thought  Joe,  rage  in  his 
heart,  "  he  beat  me  to  her,  after  all.  He  '11 
be  enough  of  a  damned  ass  to  try  to  kiss 
her  before  all  these  people,  too."  Where 
upon,  he  closed  his  eyes  tightly.  When  he 
opened  them,  Miss  Courtenay  was  walking 
beside  him  and  asking  questions  about  the 
weather.  Her  cheeks  were  very  pink.  Win 
domshire  had  awkwardly  clasped  the  hand 
of  Miss  Thursdale,  muttering  something  not 
quite  intelligible,  even  to  himself.  Eleanor 
was  replying  with  equal  blitheness. 

"  How  nice  of  you  to  come.  Where  are 
you  going  ?  " 

"Surprised,  are  you?"  he  was  flounder 
ing.  "Charmed.  Ha,  ha!  By  Jove,Eleanor 
-  er — I  heard  you  were  booked  by  this 
train  and  I  —  I  tried  to  catch  it  for  a  bit  of  a 
ride  with  you.  I  missed  it,  don't  you  know. 
I  '11  —  I  '11  wager  you  don't  know  what  I  did 
in  my  desperation." 


MRS.    VAN    TRUDER 


69 


"  I  could  n't  guess,"  she  said,  trying  to 
catch  Joe's  eye. 

"  I  hired  a  private  engine,  'pon  my  word, 
and  then  telegraphed  ahead  to  stop  this 
train!" 

"  Di — did  you  do  that?"  she  gasped, 
forgetting  that  the  bridge  was  out. 

Dauntless,  meantime,  was  trying  to  ex 
plain  to  Miss  Courtenay.  She  already  had 
told  him  that  her  aunt  was  ill  in  Vancouver, 
and  he  had  smiled  politely  and  aimlessly. 

"  I  'm  on  my  way  to  M .  Sudden  trip, 

very  important,"  he  was  saying.  "  Missed 
the  train  --  I  dare  say  it  was  this  one  —  so  I 
took  an  engine  to  follow  up.  Had  to  ride 
in  the  tender." 

"  It  must  have  been  important,"  she 
ventured. 

"  It  was.  I  —  "  then  with  an  inspired 
plunge  —  "I  was  due  at  a  wedding." 

"  How  unfortunate  !  I  hope  you  won't 
miss  it  altogether." 

Joe  caught  his  breath  and  thought :  "  Now 
what  the  devil  did  she  mean  by  that  ?  Has 
Eleanor  told  her  the  whole  story  ?  " 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  these  young 
persons  were  lacking  in  the  simpler  gifts  of 


THE    FLYERS 


intelligence  ;  they  were,  individually,  begin 
ning  to  put  two  and  two  together,  as  the 
saying  goes.  They  were  grasping  the  real 
situation  —  gr°Pmg  f°r  it>  perhaps,  but  with 
a  clear-sightedness  and  acumen  which  urged 
that  a  cautious  tongue  was  expedient.  If 
the  duplicity  was  really  as  four-handed  as  it 
seemed,  there  could  be  no  harm  in  waiting 

*  o 

for  the  other  fellow  to  blunder  into  expos 
ure.  Nothing  could  be  explained,  of  course, 
until  the  conspirators  found  opportunity  to 
consult  privately  under  the  new  order  of 
assignment. 

"  How  romantic  !  "  Eleanor  said,  as  she 
walked  stiffly  ahead  with  her  uncomfortable 
fiance. 

"  Eh  ?  "  was  his  simple  remark.  He  was 
suddenly  puzzled  over  the  fact  that  he  had 
caught  up  to  the  train.  There  was  some 
thing  startling  in  that.  "Oh  —  er — not  at 
all  romantic,  most  prosaic.  Could  n't  get  a 
coach.  Been  here  long  ?  " 

"  Since  five  o'clock." 

"I  —  I  suppose  you  got  up  to  see  the 
sunrise." 


/ 


MRS.    VAN   TRUDER 


71 


twenty  paces,  trying  to  recall  what  he  had 
said  about  telegraphing  ahead. 

"  You  don't  mean  it  !  Then  I  daresay 
they  have  n't  got  my  telegram  stopping  the 
train." 

"  How  annoying  !  " 

Dauntless  had  just  said  to  Anne,  in  a  fit  of 
disgust :  "  Windomshire  's  got  a  lot  of  nerve. 
That  was  my  engine,  you  know.  I  hired  it." 

Windomshire  went  on  to  say,  careful  that 
Joe  was  quite  out  of  hearing  :  "  Mr.  Daunt 
less  was  quite  annoying.  He  got  into  my 
engine  without  an  invitation,  and  I  'm  hanged 
if  he  'd  take  a  hint,  even  after  I  hired  a  stoker 
to  throw  a  spadeful  of  coal  over  him.  I  don't 
know  why  he  should  be  in  such  a  confounded 
hurry  to  get  to  —  what 's  the  name  of  the 
place?  I  —  er  —  I  really  think  I  must  go 
and  speak  to  Miss  Courtenay,  Eleanor.  She 
—  er —  looks  ill." 

"It's  her  grandmother  who  is  ill  —  not 
she.  But,  yes  !  Please  try  to  cheer  her  up 
a  bit,  Harry.  She's  terribly  upset." 

"  I  'm  sure  she  is,"  muttered  he,  dropping 
back  with  more  haste  than  gallantry.  Mr. 
Dauntless  sprang  forward  with  equal  alacrity, 
and  wrong  was  right  a  moment  later. 


72  THE    FLYERS 

"Joe  dear,"  whispered  Eleanor,  "I've 
been  nearly  crazy.  What  happened  ?  "  He 
was  vainly  trying  to  clasp  her  hand. 

"  Nell,  he 's  on  to  us.  I  wish  I  knew 
just  why  Miss  Courtenay  is  here.  Lord, 
I  '11  never  forget  that  ride." 

"  It  was  just  like  you  to  take  advantage  of 
his  engine." 

N  "  His  engine !  "  exploded  Joe,  wrathfully. 
Securely  separated  from  the  others,  the  elop 
ers  analysed  the  situation  as  best  they  could. 
Two  separate  enterprises  struggled  earnestly 
for  an  outcome.  On  the  surface,  the  truth 
seemed  plain  enough  :  it  was  quite  clear  to 
both  parties  that  the  extraordinary  chain  of 
coincidence  was  not  entirely  due  to  Provi 
dence.  There  was  something  of  design 
behind  it  all.  The  staggering  part  was  the 
calamitous  way  in  which  chance  had  handled 
their  dear  and  private  affairs. 

"  He  does  n't  know  that  you  were  in  my 
automobile,"  concluded  Dauntless,  almost  at 
the  same  time  that  a  like  opinion  was  being 
expressed  by  Windomshire.  "  Are  you  will 
ing  to  go  on  with  it,  Nell  ?  Are  you  scared 
out  of  it?" 

"  No,  indeed,"  she  exclaimed,  perplexity 


MRS.    VAN   TRUDER 


73 


leaving  her  brow.  "  At  first  I  feared  he 
might  have  telegraphed  to  mother,  but  now 
I  am  sure  he  has  n't.  He  was  not  following 

D 

me  at  all.  He  is  in  love  with  Anne,  and  he 
was  surreptitiously  off  for  a  part  of  the  dis 
tance  with  her.  He  really  does  n't  want  to 
marry  me,  you  know." 

"  Well,  he  is  n't  going  to,  you  see.  By 
all  that  is  holy,  nothing  shall  stop  us  now, 
dear.  We'll  go  on  to  Omegon  and  carry 
out  everything  just  as  we  planned.  If  he's 
running  off  after  another  girl,  it 's  time  you 
put  an  end  to  him.  Don't  give  him  a 
thought." 

"  Don't  you  think  we  'd  better  talk  it 
over  with  Mr.  Derby  ?  He  discreetly  dis 
appeared  when  he  saw  it  was  you." 

"  Right !     Let 's  hunt  him  out.     By  Jove, 
we  can    have  him   marry  us   right  here,  - 
great !  " 

"  No,"  she  cried  firmly,  "  it  must  be  in  a 
church."  He  could  not  move  her  from  that 
stand. 

"  Oh,  if  we  could  only  get  across  that  con 
founded  river  !  "  scolded  Joe,  as  they  went 
off  in  search  of  Derby. 

Windomshire  was  slowly  reconciling;  him- 


D 


74 


THE    FLYERS 


/  self  to  the  fact  that  Eleanor  loved  Dauntless, 
but  he  could  not  get  it  out  of  his  head  that 
she  still  expected  to  marry  as  her  mother 
had  planned. 

"  See  here,  Anne,  it 's  all  very  well  to 
say  that  she  loves  Dauntless.  Of  course 
she  does.  But  that  isn't  going  to  prevent 
her  from  marrying  me.  I  don't  believe  she 
was  running  away  with  him,  don't  you  know. 
He  was  simply  following  her.  That's  the 
way  these  Americans  do,  you  know.  Now, 
the  question  is,  won't  she  think  it  odd  that 
you  and  I  should  happen  to  be  doing  almost 
the  same  thing  ?  " 

"To  be  sure  she  will,"  said  Anne,  coolly. 
"  She  has  a  very  bad  opinion  of  me.  I  'm  sure 
she  does  n't  believe  you  expect  to  marry  me." 

"  By  Jove,  dear,  it  sounds  rather  dreadful, 
doesn't  it?"  he  groaned.  "But  of  course 
you  are  going  to  marry  me,  so  what 's  the 
odds  ?  Then  she  can  marry  Dauntless  to 
her  heart's  content.  I  say,  are  we  never  to 
get  away  from  this  beastly  place?" 

"  They  are  to  row  us  across  the  river  in 
boats.  We  '11  be  taken  up  by  another  train 
over  there  and  carried  on.  Poor  Mr.  Daunt 
less,  he  looks  so  harassed." 


MRS.    VAN   TRUDER 


75 


' 


cc  By  Jove,  I  feel  rather  cut  up  about  him. 
He  ought  to  have  her,  Anne.  He's  a  de 
cent  chap,  although  he  was  da  —  very  unrea 
sonable  last  night.  I  like  him,  too,  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  he  kicked  coal  over  me 
twice  in  that  confounded  bin.  He  was  good 
enough  to  take  a  cinder  out  of  my  eye  this 
morning,  and  I  helped  him  to  find  his  watch 
in  the  coal-bin.  I  say,  Anne,  we  might  get 
a  farm  waggon  and  drive  to  some  village 
where  there  is  a  minister — " 

"  No,  Harry !  you  know  I  've  set  my 
heart  on  being  married  in  a  church.  It 
seems  so  much  more  decent  and  —  regular ; 
especially  after  what  has  just  happened." 

A  porter  appeared  in  the  rear  platform 
and  shouted  a  warning  to  all  those  on  the 
ground. 

"  Get  yo'  things  together.  The  boats  '11 
be  ready  in  ten  minutes,  ladies  and  gen'l'men." 
The  locomotive  uttered  a  few  sharp  whistles 
to  reinforce  his  shouts,  and  everybody  made 
a  rush  for  the  cars. 

The  conductor  and  other  trainmen  had 
all  they  could  do  to  reassure  the  more  ner 
vous  and  apprehensive  of  the  passengers, 
many  of  whom  were  afraid  of  the  swollen, 


76  THE    FLYERS 

ugly  river  just  ahead.  Boats  had  been  sent 
up  from  a  town  some  miles  down  the  stream, 
and  the  passengers  with  their  baggage,  the 
express,  and  the  mail  pouches  were  to  be 
ferried  across.  Word  had  been  received  that 
a  makeshift  train  would  pick  them  up  on  the 
other  side,  not  far  from  the  wrecked  bridge, 
and  take  them  to  Omegon  as  quickly  as 
possible. 

It  was  also  announced  that  the  company 
would  be  unable  to  send  a  train  beyond 
Omegon  and  into  the  northwest  for  eight  or 
ten  hours,  owing  to  extensive  damage  by 
the  floods.  Repairs  to  bridges  and  roadbed 
were  necessary.  In  the  meantime,  the  pas 
sengers  would  be  cared  for  at  the  Somerset 
Hotel  in  Omegon,  at  the  company's  expense. 
The  company  regretted  and  deplored,  etc. 

There  was  a  frightful  clamour  by  the 
through  passengers,  threats  of  lawsuits, 
claims  for  damage,  execrations,  and  groans. 
In  time,  however,  the  whole  company  went 
trooping  down  the  track  under  the  leadership 
of  the  patient  conductor.  It  was  a  sorry, 
disgruntled  parade.  Everybody  wanted  a 
porter  at  once,  and  when  he  could  not  get 
one,  berated  the  road  in  fiercer  terms  than 


MRS.   VAN   TRUDER 


77 


ever ;  men  who  had  always  carried  their  own 
bags  to  escape  feeing  a  porter,  now  howled 
and  raged  because  there  was  not  an  army  of 
them  on  the  spot.  Everybody  was  constantly 
"damning"  the  luck. 

The  conductor  led  his  charges  from  the 
track  through  a  muddy  stubble-field  and  down 
to  a  point  where  half  a  dozen  small  rowboats 
were  waiting  among  the  willows.  Dauntless 
and  Eleanor  were  well  up  in  front,  their 
faces  set  resolutely  toward  Omegon.  For 
some  well-defined  reason,  Windomshire  and 
Anne  were  the  last  in  the  strange  procession. 
The  medical  college  agent,  the  tall  and 
sombre  Mr.  Hooker,  was  the  first  man  into 
a  boat.  He  said  it  was  a  case  of  life  or  death. 

Eleanor  looked  backward  down  the  long 
file  of  trailers,  a  little  smile  on  her  lips. 

"  They  are  not  all  going  away  to  be  mar 
ried,  are  they,  Joe  ?  "  she  said,  taking  note  of 
the  unbroken  array  of  sour  countenances. 

"  It  looks  like  a  funeral,  my  dear.  Look 
at  the  cadaverous  individual  beside  the  con  — 
Heavens,  Nell,  is  n't  that  —  by  George,  it  is  ! 
It's  old  Mrs.  Van  Truder !  Back  there 
about  half-way  -  -  the  fat  one.  See  her  ? 
Good  Lord ! "' 


78  THE    FLYERS 

Eleanor  turned  pale  and  the  joyous  light 
fled  from  her  eyes. 

"  Oh,  dear  !  I  forgot  that  the  Van  Truders 
spend  all  their  summers  at  Omegon.  And 
it  is  she  —  and  he,  too.  Oh,  Joe,  it 's  just 
awful ! " 

"  She  's  the  worst  old  cat  in  town,"  groaned 
Dauntless.  "  We  can't  escape  her.  She  '11 
spot  us,  and  she  '11  never  let  go  of  us.  I 
don't  mind  him.  He  's  so  near-sighted  he 
could  n't  see  us.  But  she  !  " 

"She  will  suspect,  Joe  —  she's  sure  to 
suspect,  and  she  '11  watch  us  like  a  hawk,'' 
whispered  the  distressed  Eleanor.  The  Van 
Truders  lived  in  the  same  block  with  the 
Thursdales  in  town.  "  She  '11  telegraph  to 
mother ! " 

"  That  reminds  me,"  muttered  Joe,  look 
ing  at  his  watch.  "  I  had  hoped  to  tele 
graph  to  your  mother  about  this  time." 

"  She  will  forgive  us,"  said  she,  but  she 
failed  in  her  assumption  of  confidence.  As 
a  matter  of  fact  she  felt  that  her  mother  would 


~".  i 


MRS.   VAN    TRUDER 

"  Yes,  but  it  was  directed  to  Miss  Cour- 
tenay,  asking  her  to  break  it  gently  to 
mamma,"  said  she,  dismally. 

They  had  reached  the  edge  of  the  river  by 
this  time  and  others  came  up  with  them. 
For  a  while  they  managed  to  keep  out  of 
old  Mrs.  Van  Truder's  range  of  vision,  but 
her  sharp  eyes  soon  caught  sight  of  them  as 
they  tried  to  slip  into  a  boat  that  was  already 
crowded  to  its  full  capacity. 

"  Why,  Eleanor  Thursdale!"  shouted  the 
old  lady,  her  aristocratic  eyes  almost  crossing 
in  their  stare  of  amazement. 

tc  Discovered !  "  groaned  Dauntless  to  the 
willows. 

Mrs.  Van  Truder  pounced  upon  Eleanor 
and,  between  personal  questions  and  im 
personal  reflections  upon  non-government 
railways,  gave  her  a  dizzy  quarter  of  an 
hour.  She  ignored  Mr.  Dauntless  almost 
completely,  —  quite  entirely  when  she  discov 
ered  Mr.  Windomshire  in  the  background. 
Little  old  Mr.  Van  Truder,  in  his  usual  state 
of  subjection,  was  permitted  to  study  the 
scenery  at  close  range. 

"  I  was  so  afraid  you  'd  marry  that  hor 
rid  Dauntless  fellow,"  whispered  Mrs.  Van 


80  THE   FLYERS 

Truder.  Eleanor  gave  vent  to  a  constrained 
laugh. 

"  How  perfectly  preposterous  !  " 

"  When  are  you  to  be  married,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  At  once — I  mean,  quite  soon.  Isn't 
the  scenery  beautiful,  Mr.  Van  Truder  ?  " 
asked  Eleanor  in  desperation. 

"  It 's  too  far  away.  I  can't  see  it," 
grumbled  the  old  gentleman. 

"  He  's  so  very  near-sighted,"  explained 
his  wife.  "  Do  you  expect  to  stay  long  at 
the  Somerset  ? " 

"  It  all  depends,"  said  Eleanor,  with  a 
glance  at  Dauntless. 

"  Is  n't  that  your  governess  with  Mr. 
Windomshire  ?  I  can't  be  mistaken." 

"  Yes,  she 's  going  out  to  spend  a  few 
weeks  with  a  rich  aunt,  —  her  sister's  mother, 

think." 

"  How  's  that?  "  gasped  the  old  lady. 

"  I  mean  her  mother's  sister." 

"  It  sounded  very  strange,  my  dear." 

(f  About  the  mother  having  a  sister?" 
guessed  old  Mr.  Van  Truder,  sharply. 


row 
volunteered   Eleanor 


MRS.    VAN    TRUDER 


81 


"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Windomshire," 
called  Mrs.  Van  Truder.  Windomshire 
started  and  got  very  red  in  the  face.  Miss 
Courtenay's  bow  went  unnoticed  by  the  old 
lady.  In  sheer  despair,  the  Englishman 
turned  to  Dauntless,  a  fellow-sufferer. 

"  I  say,  old  man,"  he  began  nervously, 
"  I  'd  like  to  ask  a  favour  of  you." 

"  Go  ahead  —  anything  I  can  do,"  said 
the  other,  blankly.  Windomshire  continued 
in  lowered  tones  : 

"  Deucedly  awkward,  but  I  forgot  my 
bags  at  Fenlock.  I  see  you  Ve  got  yours. 
Would  you  mind  lending  me  a  fresh  shirt 
and  a  collar,  old  chap  ?  " 

"  Gladly,"  cried  Joe,  very  much  relieved. 
"  Will  you  take  them  now  ?  "  starting  to 
open  his  bag.  Windomshire  hastily  inter 
posed. 

"  I  'd  rather  not,  old  chap.  It 's  rather 
exposed  here,  don't  you  know.  Later  on, 
if  you  please.  Thanks,  old  man ;  I  '11  not 
forget  this."  They  shook  hands  without 
any  apparent  excuse. 

"  Mr.  Windomshire  !  "  called  Mrs.  Van 
Truder.  He  turned  with  a  hopeless  look 
in  his  eyes.  The  two  girls  had  misery  and 


82 


THE    FLYERS 


consternation  plainly  stamped  in  their  faces. 
"  We  can't  all  go  over  in  the  next  boats, 
you  know.  I  Ve  no  doubt  you  and  Miss 
Thursdale  would  not  in  the  least  mind  being 
left  to  the  last,"  with  a  sly  smile. 

"  Oh  —  er  —  ah,  by  Jove  !  "  gasped  Win- 
domshire,  with  a  glance  at  the  still  faces  of 
the  young  women.  He  saw  no  relief  there. 

"  Blamed  cat !  "  muttered  Dauntless,  grit 
ting  his  teeth. 

"  Mr.  Dauntless,  will  you  and  Miss 
Courtenay  come  with  us  in  this  boat  ?  I 
want  some  one  to  keep  the  snakes  away  ; 
Mr.  Van  Truder  can't  see  them,  you  know." 

There  was  no  way  out  of  it.  Joe  and 
Anne  meekly  followed  the  Van  Truders  into 
the  wobbly  boat,  resentment  in  their  hearts, 
uncertainty  in  their  minds.  They  rowed 
away,  leaving  Windomshire  and  Eleanor 
standing  among  the  willows,  ill  at  ease  and 
troubled  beyond  expression. 


CHAPTER   V 

AS  NIGHT  APPROACHES 

NEITHER  spoke  until  the  boat  came 
to    its    slippery,    uncertain    landing- 
place     on     the     opposite     side     of 
the  river.     Then  each  breathed  easier,  in  a 
sigh  that  seemed  to   express  both  relief  and 
dismay. 

"  It 's  a  very  ugly  looking  river,"  she  mur 
mured  encouragingly.  She  was  afraid  he 
might  feel  obliged,  in  honour,  to  offer  an 
explanation  for  his  presence,  perhaps  attempt 
to  convince  her  in  some  tangible  way  that 
she  was  to  expect  nothing  but  slavish  devo 
tion  from  him  in  the  future. 

"  I  don't  wonder  that  the  bridge  gave 
way,"  he  replied  politely.  They  looked  at 
each  other  involuntarily,  and  then  instantly 
looked  away. 


84 


THE    FLYERS 


head   to   know   what   she 
thought     Windomshire 


"  I  'd  give  my 
expects  of  me," 
miserably. 

"  How  I  despise  that  old  woman  !  "  welled 
up  in  Eleanor's  bitter  heart.  Everything  was 
awry.  Luckily  for  both  of  them  a  small  boy 
slipped  into  the  river  at  that  moment.  He 
was  rescued  by  the  brakeman,  but  not  until 
the  catastrophe  had  served  its  purpose  as  a 
godsend.  The  excitement  which  attended  the 
rescue  saved  the  couple  an  uncomfortable  ten 
minutes.  Eleanor  went  to  the  assistance  of 
the  distracted  mother;  Windomshire,  in  his 
eagerness  to  do  something,  offered  to  ex 
change  clothes  with  the  dripping  trainman; 
the  small  boy  howled  as  lustily  as  his  wheezy 
lungs  would  permit.  Everybody  shouted 
advice  to  the  mother,  rebukes  to  the  boy, 
and  praise  to  the  hero ;  altogether  Provi 
dence  was  acting  most  handsomely. 

At  last  the  final  boatload  of  passengers 
crossed  the  river  and  drew  up  at  the  landing  ; 
Eleanor,  with  her  bewildered  fiance,  stepped 
into  the  beaming  presence  of  Mrs.  Van 
Truder. 

"  Come  with  us,"  she  said  with  a  friend 
liness  that  shattered  all  hope.  <r  Mr.  Van 


AS    NIGHT    APPROACHES         85 

Trader  has  just  arranged  for  breakfast  at 
that  farmhouse  over  there.  The  relief  train 
won't  be  here  for  half  an  hour  or  more  and 
you  must  be  famished."  Eleanor's  flimsy 
excuses  were  unavailing ;  her  protestations 
that  she  could  not  eat  a  mouthful  fell  on  ob 
durate  ears.  Windomshire,  catching  sight 
of  the  forlorn  Anne,  was  about  tp  assert  him 
self  vigorously  in  declining  the  invitation 
when  a  meaning  look  from  the  governess 
caused  him  to  refrain.  The  look  very  plainly 
told  him  to  accept. 

The  unhappy  couple  followed  the  Van 
Traders  to  the  nearby  farmhouse.  They 
left  behind  them  on  the  edge  of  the  crowd, 
seated  side  by  side  on  a  pile  of  ties,  two 
miserable  partners  in  the  fiasco.  Gloomy, 
indeed,  was  the  outlook  for  Miss  Courtenay 
and  the  despised  Mr.  Dauntless.  They 
were  silent  for  many  minutes  after  the 
departure,  rage  in  their  hearts.  Then 
Mr.  Dauntless  could  hold  his  tongue  no 
longer. 

"  Damn  her ! "  he  exploded  so  viciously 
that  Anne  jumped  and  cried  out,  — 

"  Mr.  Dauntless  !  " 

"  Oh,  you  feel  just  as  I  do  about  it  only 


Jtf 


THE    FLYERS 

you  won't  say  it  aloud,"  he  exclaimed, 
won't  stand  for  it  !  " 

"I  —  I  am  sure  Miss  Thursdale  has  done 
nothing  to  deserve  your  curses,"  she  began 
diplomatically. 

"  Good  Heavens,  Miss  Courtenay,  you  — 
Oh,  I  say,  you  know  I  did  n't  mean  Eleanor. 
The  old  pelican  —  that's  the  one.  Old  Mrs. 
Intruder,"  he  grated. 

"  I  am  sure  it  is  all  quite  regular,"  observed 
Anne,  so  seriously  that  he  looked  at  her  in 
wonder.  It  began  to  creep  into  his  head 
that  his  speculations  were  wrong,  after  all. 
At  any  rate  it  seemed  advisable  to  put  a 
sharp  curb  on  his  tongue. 

"  I  'm  sorry  I  spoke  as  I  did  about  the  old 
lady,"  he  said,  after  a  moment's  reflection. 
"  I  was  thinking  of  the  way  in  which  she  left 
you  out  of  her  invitation  to  breakfast." 

"  And  yourself,  incidentally,"  she  smiled. 

"  Miss  Courtenay,  I  'm —  I  'm  a  con 
founded  ass  for  not  thinking  of  your  break 
fast.  It 's  not  too  late.  We  are  both 
hungry.  Won't  you  come  with  me  and 
have  a  bit  of  something  to  eat  ?  We  '11  try 
that  farmhouse  ourselves.  Come,  let  us 
hurry  or  the  crowd  will  get  in  ahead  of  us. 


Seated  side  by  side  .    .    .  two  miserable  part 
ners  in  the  fiasco 


AS    NIGHT   APPROACHES         87 

Ham  and  eggs  and  coffee  !  they  always  have 
that  sort  of  breakfast  in  farmhouses,  I  'm 
told.  Come." 

She  sprang  up  cheerfully,  and  followed  him 
across  the  meadow  to  the  farmhouse.  The 
Van  Truder  party  was  entering  the  door, 
smoke  pouring  forth  suggestively  from  a 
chimney  in  the  rear  of  the  house.  The  sud 
den  desire  for  ham  and  eggs  was  overcoming, 
in  a  way,  the  pangs  of  outraged  love ;  there 
was  solace  in  the  new  thought. 

That  breakfast  was  one  never  to  be  for 
gotten  by  four  persons ;  two  others  remem 
bered  it  to  their  last  days  on  account  of  its 
amazing  excellence.  A  dozen  persons  were 
crowded  into  the  little  dining-room  ;  no  one 
went  forth  upon  his  travels  with  an  empty 
stomach.  No  such  profitable  harvest  had  ever 
been  reaped  by  the  farmer.  Dauntless  and 
Anne  ate  off  of  a  sewing-table  in  the  corner. 
Mrs.  Van  Truder  deliberately  refused  to  hear 
Mr.  Windomshire's  timorous  suggestion  that 
they  "  make  room  "  for  them  at  the  select 
table.  Silent  anathemas  accompanied  every 
mouthful  of  food  that  went  down  the  des 
pot's  throat,  but  she  did  not  know  it.  For 
tunately  the  lovers  were  healthy  and  hungry. 


88 


THE   FLYERS 


They  fared  forth  after  that  memorable  break 
fast  with  lighter  hearts,  though  still  misplaced 
by  an  unrelenting  fate. 

All  the  way  to  Omegon  Anne  sat  in  the 
seat  with  the  seething  Dauntless,  each  nurs 
ing  a  pride  that  had  received  almost  insup 
portable  injuries  during  the  morning  hours. 
Windomshire  and  Eleanor,  under  the  es 
pionage  of  the  "  oldest  friend  of  the  family," 
moped  and  sighed  with  a  frankness  that 
could  not  have  escaped  more  discerning  eyes. 
Mrs.  Van  Truder,  having  established  herself 
as  the  much  needed  chaperon,  sat  back  com 
placently  and  gave  her  charges  every  oppor 
tunity  to  hold  private  and  no  doubt  sacred 
communication  in  the  double  seat  just  across 
the  aisle. 

Eleanor  pleaded  fatigue,  and  forthwith 
closed  her  wistful  eyes.  Windomshire,  with 
fine  consideration,  sank  into  a  rapt  study  of 
the  flitting  farm  lands.  Having  got  but  little 
sleep  among  the  coals,  he  finally  dropped  off 
into  a  peaceful  cat  nap. 

Omegon  was  reached  before  Eleanor  had 
the  courage  to  awaken  him.  She  did  so  then 
only  because  it  was  impossible  for  her  to 
crawl  over  his  knees  without  losing  her  dig- 


AS    NIGHT    APPROACHES         89 

nity  ;  they  were  planted  sturdily  against  the 
seat  in  front.  She  fled  like  a  scared  child  to 
Joe's  side,  her  mind  made  up  to  cling  to  him 
now,  no  matter  what  manner  of  opposition 
prevailed. 

"  I  '11  go  with  you,  Joe,"  she  whispered 
fiercely.  "  I  don't  care  what  any  one  says  or 
thinks.  Your  cousin  will  meet  us  with  the 
carriage,  won't  he  ?  "  she  concluded  piteously. 
Windomshire  also  had  taken  the  bull  by  the 
horns  and  was  helping  Miss  Courtenay  from 
the  train  with  an  assiduity  that  brought  down 
the  wrath  of  obstructing  passengers  upon  his 
devoted  head. 

"  He  said  he  would,"  replied  Dauntless, 
his  spirits  in  the  clouds.  "We  must  get 
away  from  these  people,  Nell.  I  '11  go  crazy 
in  another  minute.  There  's  Derby  waiting 
for  instructions.  Dear  old  Darb  —  he's  a 
brick.  My  cousin  Jim  is  a  deacon  or  some 
thing  in  the  village  church,  dear,  and  he  has 
promised  to  let  us  in.  I  suppose  he  has  a 
key.  He  and  his  wife  will  be  the  only  wit 
nesses.  By  George,  nothing  can  stop  us 
now,  dear,  if  you  have  the  nerve  to  — 
Where  the  dickens  is  Jim  ?  Confound  him, 
I  don't  see  him  on  the  platform." 


D 


9o  THE    FLYERS 

He  looked  about  the  station  platform  — 
first  anxiously,  then  impatiently,  then  —  with 
consternation!  His  cousin  was  nowhere 
in  sight.  Cold  with  apprehensiveness,  he 
dashed  over  to  a  citizen  who  wore  a  star  upon 
his  coat,  almost  dragging  Eleanor  after  him. 

"Is  Jim  Carpenter  here?  Have  you  seen 
him?  Do  you  know  him  ?"  he  demanded. 

"  He  was  here,  mister.  'Bout  two  hours 
ago,  1  reckon.  I  guess  you  must  be  the  fel 
low  he  was  to  meet  —  " 

"Yes,  yes,  —  where  is  he  now?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  mister.  His  wife 's  got 
pneumonia,  an'  he  told  me  to  tell  you  he 
could  n't  wait.  He  took  the  doctor  right 
out  to  —  " 

"  Good  Lord  !  "  exploded  Joe.  The  citizen 
jumped  a  few  inches  into  the  air.  "  He  's 
gone  ? " 

"  Yep.  But  he  told  me  to  tell  you  to  go 
over  to  the  Somerset  an'  wait  till  you  hear 
from  him." 

«  Wait  —  till  —  I  hear  —  from  —  him  ?  " 
groaned  Dauntless,  wild-eyed  but  faint.  He 
and  Eleanor  looked  at  each  other  in  despair. 

"Go  —  to -- the -- hotel?"  she  mur 
mured,  her  heart  in  her  boots.  "  I  never 


AS    NIGHT   APPROACHES         91 

can  do  that,"  she  continued.  Her  voice 
was  full  of  tears. 

Mrs.  Van  Truder  bore  down  upon  them 
like  an  angry  vulture.  They  saw  her  com 
ing,  but  neither  had  the  strength  of  purpose 
to  move. 

Before  they  really  knew  how  it  happened, 
she  was  leading  Eleanor  to  the  hotel  'bus 
and  he  was  limply  following,  lugging  both 
bags  with  a  faithfulness  that  seemed  pathetic. 
Two  minutes  later  they  were  in  the  'bus, 
touching  knees  with  the  equally  dazed  and 
discomfited  English  people. 

Back  on  the  platform  the  elongated  med 
ical  gentleman,  Mr.  Hooker,  was  talking 
loudly,  wrathfully  to  the  station  agent.  His 
voice  rang  in  their  ears  long  after  the  'bus 
rolled  away  on  its  "  trip  "  to  the  big  sum 
mer  hotel. 

"  You  say  old  man  Grover  ain't  dead 
yet  ? "  Mr.  Hooker  was  growling  resent 
fully,  even  indignantly. 

"  He  ain't  expected  to  live  till  night,  sir, 
poor  old  man,"  replied  the  agent. 

"  Well,  I  '11  be  damned  !  "  roared  Mr. 
Hooker.  "  I  don't  see  anv  sense  in  a  man 


92 


THE   FLYERS 


eighty-three.  My  time  is  valuable  "  — 
looking  at  his  big  silver  watch  — "  and  I 
can't  afford  to  hang  around  here  if  he 's 
going  to  act  like  this."  The  agent  stared 
after  him  as  if  he  were  looking  at  a  maniac. 
Mr.  Hooker  set  off  in  the  direction  of  old 
Mr.  Grover's  house,  which  had  been  pointed 
'/a^/i  out  to  him  by  a  gaping  small  boy.  "  I  '11 
0  //\\  §°  UP  an^  see  about  it,"  he  remarked,  as  he 
stepped  across  a  wide  rivulet  in  the  middle 
of  the  main  street. 

The  Somerset  Hotel  was  situated  on  the 
most  beautiful  point  of  land  touching  that 
trim  little  lake  which  attracted  hundreds  of 
city  people  annually  by  its  summer  wiles.  It 
was  too  sedate  and  qui-et  to  be  fashionable ; 
the  select  few  who  went  there  sought  rest 
from  the  frivolities  of  the  world.  Eleanor 
Thursdale  had  spent  one  tiresome  but  proper 
season  there  immediately  after  the  death  of 
her  father.  She  hated  everything  in  con 
nection  with  the  place  except  the  little  old- 
fashioned  church  at  the  extreme  end  of  the 
village  street,  fully  half  a  mile  from  the  hotel. 
She  had  chosen  it,  after  romantic  reflection, 
as  the  sanctuary  in  which  she  should  become 
the  wife  of  the  man  she  loved,  spurning  the 


AS   NIGHT   APPROACHES 


93 


great  church  in  town  and  one  of  its  loveless 
matches. 

The  forenoon  is  left  to  the  imagination  of 
the  reader,  —  with  all  of  its  unsettled  plans, 
its  doubts  and  misgivings,  its  despairs  and 
its  failures,  its  subterfuges  and  its  strategies, 
its  aggravations  and  complaints.  Bell-boys 
carried  surreptitious  notes  from  room  to 
room  ;  assurances,  hopes,  and  reassurances 
passed  one  another  in  systematic  confusion. 
Love  was  trying  to  find  its  way  out  of  the 
maze. 

Immediately  after  luncheon  Dauntless  set 
out  to  discover  his  faithless  cousin.  Eleanor 
kept  close  to  her  room,  in  readiness  for  in 
stant  flight.  The  necessary  Mr.  Derby  had 
his  instructions  to  remain  where  he  could  be 
found  without  trouble.  Mrs.  Van  Truder, 
taking  up  Eleanor's  battles,  busied  herself 
and  every  one  else  in  the  impossible  task  of 
locating  the  young  woman's  trunks,  which, 
according  to  uncertain  reports,  had  gone  mys 
teriously  astray.  Moreover,  she  had  pre 
pared  a  telegram  to  the  young  lady's  mother, 
assuring  her  that  she  was  quite  safe ;  but 
Mr.  Dauntless  boldly  intercepted  Mr.  Van 
Truder  on  his  wav  to  the  desk. 


94 


THE   FLYERS 


"  Allow  me,"  he  remarked,  deliberately 
taking  the  despatch  from  the  old  gentleman. 
"  I  '11  send  it  from  the  station.  Don't  bother 
about  it,  Mr.  Van  Truder."  He  drove 
through  the  village,  but  did  not  stop  at  the 
station  ;  his  instructions  to  the  driver  did 
not  include  a  pause  anywhere.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  relate  what  took  place  when  he 
descended  upon  the  unfortunate  Jim ;  it  is 
sufficient  to  say  that  he  dragged  him  from 
his  sick  wife's  bedside  and  berated  him 
soundly  for  his  treachery.  Then  it  was  all 
rearranged,  —  the  hapless  Jim  being  swept 
into  promises  which  he  could  not  break, 
even  with  death  staring  his  wife  in  the  face. 
The  agitated  Mr.  Dauntless  drove  back  to 

D 

the  hotel  with  a  new  set  of  details  perfected. 
This  time  nothing  should  go  wrong. 

His  first  action  was  to  acquaint  Derby 
with  the  plans,  and  then  to  send  a  note  of 
instructions  to  Eleanor,  guarding  against  any 
chance  that  they  might  not  be  able  to  com 
municate  with  each  other  in  person. 

"  It/s  all  fixed,"  he  announced  to  Derby, 
in  a  secluded  corner  of  the  grounds.  "  To- 
nightj  at  nine  we  are  to  be  at  the  church 
down  the  road  there  —  see  it  ?  Nobody  is 


AS   NIGHT   APPROACHES 


95 


on  to  us,  and  Jim  has  a  key.  He  will  meet 
you  there  at  a  quarter  of  nine.  But,  hang  it 
all,  his  wife  can't  act  as  a  witness.  We  Ve 
got  to  provide  one.  He  suggested  the  post 
master,  but  I  don't  like  the  idea  ;  it  looks 
too  much  like  a  cheap  elopement.  I  'd  just 
as  soon  have  the  cook  or  the  housemaid. 
I  '11  get  Eleanor  there  if  I  have  to  kill  that 
Van  Truder  woman.  Now,  whom  shall  we 
have  as  the  second  witness  ?  " 

"  Windomshire,  I  'm  afraid,"  lamented 
Derby.  "  You  won't  be  able  to  get  rid  of 
him." 

"  Hang  him  !  "  groaned  Dauntless,  his 
spirits  falling,  but  instantly  reviving.  "  But 
he  's  dead  in  love  with  Miss  Courtenay.  It 's 
pitiful,  old  man.  He  feels  that  he  's  got  to 
marry  Nell,  but  it 's  not  in  his  heart  to  do  it. 
Now  if  we  could  only  shunt  him  off  on  to 
Miss  Courtenay  this  evening !  Her  train 
leaves  at  nine,  they  say.  He  might  be 
forced  to  take  her  to  the  station  if  you  will 
only  get  busy  and  make  him  jealous." 

"  Jealous  ?      I  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  It  won't  be  much  of  an  effort 
for  you,  and  it  will  help  me  immensely. 
Make  love  to  her  this  afternoon,  and  when 


THE    FLYERS 

you  suggest  taking  her  to  the  station  this 
evening  he'll  be  so  wrought  up  that  he 
won't  stand  for  it.  See  what  I  mean  ?  " 

"  Now  see  here,  Joe,  I  'm  willing  to  do  a 
great  deal  for  you,  but  this  is  too  much. 
You  forget  that  I  am  a  minister  of  the 
gospel.  It's  —  " 

"  I  know,  old  man,  but  you  might  do  a 
little  thing  like  this  for  -  By  Jove,  I  've 
got  it !  Why  not  have  old  Mr.  Van  Truder 
for  the  other  witness  ?  " 

Mr.  Van  Truder  was  crossing  the  lawn, 
picking  his  way  carefully. 

"  Good  afternoon,"  greeted  Dauntless. 

"  Afternoon,"  responded  Mr.  Van  Truder. 
"  Is  this  the  hotel  ?  " 

"No,  sir;  the  hotel  is  about  ten  feet  to 
your  left.  By  the  way,  Mr.  Van  Truder, 
would  you  mind  doing  me  a  favour  this 
evening?  " 

"  Gladly.     Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  Joe  Dauntless." 

"Anything,  my  dear  Joe." 

"  Well,  it 's  a  dead  secret." 

"  A  secret  ?  Trust  me,"  cried  the  old 
man,  joyfully. 

"  First,   let   me  introduce  my  friend,   the 


AS    NIGHT   APPROACHES 


97 


Rev.  Mr.  Derby.  He's  in  the  secret.  It 
will  go  no  farther,  I  trust,  Mr.  Van  Truder." 

"My  wife  says  I  can't  keep  a  secret,  but 
I  '11  show  her  that  I  can.  Trust  me,  my 
boy." 

"  I  '11  bet  you  a  hundred  dollars  you  can't 
keep  this  one,"  said  Joe,  inspired. 

"  Done !  " 

"  Well,"  bravely  but  cautiously,  "  I  'm 
going  to  be  married  to-night.  Be  careful 
now !  Look  out !  Don't  explode !  Re 
member  the  bet !  "  The  old  gentleman  re 
pressed  his  feelings. 

"  Beautiful !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Congratu 
lations,  my  boy." 

"  Now  for  the  favour.  I  want  you  to  act 
as  a  witness.  It's  to  be  a  very  quiet  affair." 
Dauntless  explained  as  much  of  the  situation 
to  him  as  he  thought  necessary,  omitting  the 
lady's  name.  Mr.  Van  Truder  bubbled  over 
with  joy  and  eagerness.  He  promised  faith 
fully  to  accompany  Mr.  Derby,  pooh-hooing 
the  suggestion  that  he  could  not  slip  away 
from  the  hotel  without  his  wife  being  aware 


98 


THE   FLYERS 


y/j  say  the  hotel  was  ?  I  '11  go  up  and  get  ready. 
/>4  Oh,  by  the  way,  who  is  the  young  lady  ? " 

"  She  's  a  friend  of  Mr.  Dauntless's,"  said 
Mr.  Derby. 

"  To  be  sure  ;  I  might  have  known.  Silly 
question." 

The  young  men  watched  him  enter  the 
hotel,  but  they  did  not  see  him  fall  into  the 
clutches  of  his  wife  just  inside  the  door. 

"  Where  have  you  been  ?  "  demanded  Mrs. 
Van  Trader. 

"  I  've  been  looking  everywhere  for  you, 
my  dear,"  he  said,  almost  whimpering. 
"  I  've  got  a  grand  secret,  but  I  can't  tell 
you.  Don't  ask  me  !  " 

"  Is  it  a  wedding  ?  "  she  demanded  sternly. 

"  Dear  me  !  Do  you  know  it  too  ?  "  he 
cried,  bewildered.  "  But  that 's  not  the  real 
secret;  it's  only  part  of  it.  Joe  is  going  to 
marry  some  friend  of  his  to-night  —  but 
that 's  as  far  as  I  '11  go.  I  '11  not  betray  the 
secret."  He  hurried  away  to  avoid  ques 
tions,  muttering  to  himself  as  he  went : 
"She's  dying  to  know.  But  a  secret's  a 
secret.  She  sha'n't  know  that  I  am  to  be  a 
witness." 

Mrs.    Van    Truder    pondered    long    and 


AS    NIGHT   APPROACHES 


99 


deeply,  but  she  was  not  well  enough  ac- 
quainted  with  all  of  the  facts  to  hazard  a 
guess  as  to  who  the  girl  might  be.  It  came 
to  her  memory  that  Dauntless  had  been  with 
Miss  Courtenay  all  morning,  however,  and 
she  wondered  not  a  little.  Windomshire  was 
approaching  in  search  of  Anne,  who  was  to 
have  met  him  as  if  by  accident  in  a  corner  of 
the  reading-room. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Windomshire,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Van  Truder,  darting  toward  him. 

"  How  do,  Mrs.  Van  Truder?  How  are 
you  to-day  ? "  he  asked,  scarcely  able  to 
hide  his  annoyance. 

"  That  is  the  tenth  time  you  've  asked  me 
that  question.  I  must  repeat :  I  am  quite 
well." 

"  Oh,  pardon  my  inquisitiveness.  It  has 
been  a  very  long  day,  you  know." 

"  I  want  you  and  Miss  Thursdale  to  dine 
with  me  at  eight  this  evening.  I  think  I  Ml 
have  a  little  surprise  for  you,"  she  said  mys 
teriously.  Windomshire  glared,  and  then 
managed  to  give  a  provisional  acceptance.  It 
all  depended  on  the  hour  for  leaving  for  the 
train.  As  he  hurried  off  to  find  Anne  he 
was  groaning  to  himself:  "  How  the  deuce 


100 


THE   FLYERS 


can  I  go  to  a  dinner  and  run  off  again  with 

O  O 

Anne  ?  I  've  got  everything  arranged.  I 
can't  let  a  beastly  dinner  interfere.  I  won't 
go,  hang  me  if  I  do."  He  came  upon  Anne 
in  the  corner  of  the  library  —  the  most 
unfrequented  corner. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  questioned  eagerly.  He 
clasped  her  hands,  beaming  once  more. 

"  I  Ve  seen  him,  dear.  It 's  all  right.  My 
word,  I  've  had  no  end  of  a  busy  day.  The 
confounded  fellow  was  out  making  calls  on 
the  congregation,  as  they  say,  and  I  had  to 
pursue  him  from  house  to  house,  always 
missing  him,  by  Jove." 

"  But  you  did  find  him  ?  "  anxiously. 

"  Of  course.  He  will  be  at  the  church  at 
nine  to-night  —  sharp.  He  understands  that 
no  one  is  to  know  about  it.  His  fee  is  ten 
pounds  —  quite  a  bit  for  a  chap  like  him.  I 
found  him  calling  upon  a  fellow  who  is  about 
to  die  —  a  Mr.  Grover.  He  sent  out  word 
I  'd  have  to  wait  as  the  old  gentleman  was 
passing  away.  By  Jove,  do  you  know  I  was 
that  intense  that  I  sent  in  word  that  the  old 
gentleman  would  have  to  wait  a  bit  —  I 
could  nt.  The  pastor  came  out  and  —  well, 
it  seems  that  the  fee  for  helping  a  chap  to 


AS   NIGHT   APPROACHES       101 

get  married  is  more  substantial  than  what  he 
gets  for  helping  one  to  die.  And,  as  luck 
would  have  it,  I  found  a  fellow  who  will 
act  as  one  of  the  witnesses  to  the  ceremony 
at  this  same  house,  —  a  Mr.  Hooker,  Anne. 
He  came  down  on  the  train  with  us.  Tall, 
dark,  professional  looking  man.  He  was 
sitting  on  Mr.  Grover's  front  steps  when  I 
got  there.  The  other  witness  —  must  have 
two,  you  know  —  is  the  head-waiter  in  the 
dining-room  here  —  " 

"  The  —  head-waiter  ?  "  she  gasped. 

"  He 's  a  very  decent  sort  of  chap,  my 
dear  —  and,  besides,  we  can't  be  choosers. 
Waiters  are  most  discreet  fellows,  too.  He  's 
to  get  two  pounds  for  his  trouble.  By  Jove, 
I  think  I  've  done  rather  well.  I  'm  sorry  if 
you  don't  approve,"  he  lamented. 

"  But  I  do  approve,  Harry,"  she  cried 
bravely.  "  It 's  lovely  !  " 

"  Good  !  I  knew  you  would.  Now  all 
we  have  to  do  is  to  slip  away  from  here  this 
evening,  and  -  •  Oh,  I  say,  hang  it  all  !  Mrs. 
Van  Truder  has  asked  me  to  dine  with  them 
this  evening." 

"Isn't  she  running  you  a  bit?"  cried 
Anne,  indignantly.  "  She  had  you  for  break- 


A 


IO2 


THE    FLYERS 


fast  and  luncheon  and  now  it's  dinner.  I 
daresay  she  '11  have  you  for  tea  too." 

"  But  I  'm  not  going  to  her  confounded 
dinner.  That 's  settled.  I  can't  do  it,  you 
know,  and  be  on  time  for  the  wedding. 
Deuce  take  it,  what  does  she  take  a  fellow 
for  ?  Hello,  here  comes  the  chap  that 
Dauntless  introduced  to  us  this  morning." 
Derby  was  approaching  with  a  warm  and  in 
gratiating  smile.  "  What 's  his  name  ?  Con 
found  him." 

"  Mr.  Derby,  I  think.  Why  can't  they 
give  us  a  moment's  peace  ? "  she  pouted. 
Derby  came  up  to  them,  his  eyes  sparkling 
with  a  fire  which  they  could  not  and  were 
not  to  understand.  He  had  surveyed  them 
from  a  distance  for  some  time  before  decid 
ing  to  ruthlessly,  cruelly  break  in  upon  the 
tranquil  situation. 

"  She's  a  pretty  girl,"  he  reflected,  uncon 
sciously  going  back  to  his  college  days,  and 
quite  forgetting  his  cloth  —  which,  by  the 
way,  was  a  neat  blue  serge  with  a  tender 
stripe.  Consoling  himself  with  the  thought 
that  he  was  doing  it  to  accommodate  an  old 
friend,  the  good-looking  Mr.  Derby  boldly 
entered  the  lists  for  the  afternoon.  He  felt, 


Windomshire 


AS   NIGHT   APPROACHES 

somehow,  that  he  had  it  in  his  power  to 
make  Mr.  Windomshire  quite  jealous  —  and 
at  the  same  time  do  nothing  reprehensible. 
What  he  did  succeed  in  doing,  alas,  was  to 
make  two  young  people  needlessly  miserable 
for  a  whole  afternoon  —  bringing  on  grievous 
headaches  and  an  attack  of  suppressed  mel 
ancholia  that  savoured  somewhat  of  actual 
madness. 

True  to  his  project,  he  laboured  hard  and 
skilfully  for  hours.  Windomshire  moved 
about  in  solitude,  gnashing  his  teeth,  while 
Derby  unceremoniously  whisked  the  dazed 
Anne  off  for  pleasant  walks  or  held  her  at 
bay  in  some  secluded  corner  of  the  parlours. 
By  dinner-time,  encouraged  by  Joe's  wild 
but  cautious  applause,  he  had  driven  Win 
domshire  almost  to  distraction.  A  thing  he 
did  not  know,  however,  —  else  his  pride 
might  have  cringed  perceptibly,  —  was  that 
Anne  Courtenay  was  growing  to  hate  him 
as  no  one  was  ever  hated  before. 

"  Well,"  he  said  to  the  nervous  Mr. 
Dauntless  at  seven  o'clock  that  evening, 
having  arrived  at  what  he  called  the  conclu- 
work,  "  I  think  I  Ve  done 


sion 


day' 


all  that  was  expected,  have  n't  I  ? 


IO4 


THE    FLYERS 


"  You  Ve  got  him  crazy,  old  boy.  Look 
at  him!  It's  the  first  minute  he's  had 
since  half-past  two.  Say,  what  do  you  think 
of  this  cursed  weather  ?  It 's  raining  again  — 
and  muddy !  Great  Scot,  old  man !  it 's 
knee  deep,  and  we  don't  dare  take  a  carriage 
to  the  church.  One  can't  sneak  worth  a 
cent  in  a  cab,  you  know.  See  you  later  ! 
There 's  Eleanor  waiting  to  speak  to  me. 
By  George,  I  'm  nervous.  You  wont  fail 
us,  old  man  ?  " 

"  I  '11  do  my  part,  Joe,"  said  Derby, 
smiling. 

"  Well,  so  long,  if  I  don't  see  you  be 
fore  nine.  You  look  out  for  old  Mr.  Van 
Truder,  will  you  ?  See  that  he  sneaks  out 
properly.  And  — 

"  Don't  worry,  old  chap.  Go  to  Miss 
Thursdale.  She  seems  nervous." 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE    ROAD    TO    PARADISE 

NIGHT  again  —  and  again  the  mist 
and  the  drizzle ;  again  the  country 
lane,  but  without  the  warm  club 
house  fire,  the  cheery  lights,  the  highball,  and 
the  thumping  motor  car.  Soggy,  squashy 
mud  instead  of  the  clean  tonneau ;  heavy, 
cruel  wading  through  unknown  by-ways  in 
place  of  the  thrilling  rush  to  Fenlock.  Not 
twenty-four  hours  had  passed,  and  yet  it 
seemed  that  ages  lay  between  the  joyous 
midnight  and  the  sodden,  heart-breaking 
eve  that  followed. 

The   guests   at  the    Somerset    kept  close 
indoors,  —  that  is,  most  of  them  did.     It  is 


106 


THE    FLYERS 


//J  nection  with  this  little  history.  It  is  far  out 
in  the  dreary  country  lane  and  not  inside  the 
warm  hotel  that  we  struggle  to  attain  our 
end.  First  one,  then  another  stealthy  figure 
crept  forth  into  the  drizzle ;  before  the  big 
clock  struck  half-past  eight,  at  least  six  re 
spectable  and  supposedly  sensible  persons 
had  mysteriously  disappeared.  Only  one  of 
our  close  acquaintances  remained  in  the  hotel, 
—  Mrs.  Van  Truder.  It  was  not  to  be  long, 
however,  before  she,  too,  would  be  adven 
turing  forth  in  search  of  the  unknown. 

By  this  it  may  be  readily  understood  that 
Mr.  Van  Truder  had  succeeded  in  escaping 
from  beneath  her  very  nose,  as  it  were. 

The  little  village  church  stood  at  the  ex 
treme  end  of  the  street,  —  dark,  dismal,  quite 
awe-inspiring  on  a  night  like  this.  A  narrow 
lane  stretched  from  the  hotel  to  the  sanctuary 
and  beyond.  There  is  nothing  at  hand  to 
show  whether  it  is  a  Methodist,  a  Presbyte 
rian,  or  a  Baptist  church.  As  the  two  young 
women  most  vitally  concerned  in  this  tale 
were  professedly  high  church,  it  is  therefore 
no  more  than  right  that,  in  the  darkness,  it 
should  be  looked  upon  as  an  Episcopalian 
church. 


THE   ROAD    TO    PARADISE     107 

Two  stumbling  figures,  pressing  close  to 
each  other  in  the  shelter  of  a  single  wobbly 
umbrella,  forged  their  uncertain  way  through 
the  muddy  lane.  Except  for  the  brief  in 
stants  when  the  dull  flicker  of  lightning 
came  to  their  relief,  they  were  in  pitch 
darkness. 

"  Beastly  dark,  is  n't  it  ?  "  said  one  of  the 
figures. 

"  And  beastly  muddy  too,"  said  the  other, 
in  a  high,  disconsolate  treble.  "  Oh,  dear, 
where  are  we  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  but  I  feel  as  though  we 
were  about  to  step  off  of  something  every 
moment.  Do  you  know,  Anne,  it 's  extraor 
dinary  that  I  should  n't  know  how  to  light 
one  of  these  confounded  lanterns." 

"  Try  it  again,  Harry  dear.  I  '11  hold  the 
umbrella." 

"  Oh,  I  see !  By  Jove,  one  has  to  open 
the  thing,  don't  you  know.  Ah,  there  we 
are!  That's  better,"  he  said,  after  he  had 
succeeded  in  finally  lighting  the  wick.  He 
held  the  lantern  up  close  to  her  face  and 
they  looked  at  each  other  for  a  moment. 


"  Anne,    I    do    love 
Then  he  kissed  her. 


"  That 's  the  first  time 


io8 


THE    FLYERS 


I  've  had  a  chance  to  kiss  you  in  thirty-six 
hours." 

They  plodded  onward,  closer  together 
than  ever,  coming  at  last  to  the  little  gate 
which  opened  into  the  churchyard.  Before 
them  stood  the  black  little  building  with  its 
steeple,  but  the  windows  were  as  dark  as 
Erebus.  They  stopped  in  consternation. 
He  looked  at  his  watch. 

"  Confound  him,  he  's  not  here  !  "  growled 
Windomshire. 

"  Perhaps  we  are  early,"  suggested  Anne, 
feebly. 

"It's  a  quarter  to  nine,"  he  said.  "I 
suppose  there  is  nothing  left  for  us  to  do 
but  to  wait.  "  I  '11  look  around  a  bit,  dear. 
Perhaps  the  witnesses  are  here  somewhere." 

"  Oo-oo-ooh  !  Don't  leave  me  !  "  she 
almost  shrieked.  "  Look  !  There  is  a  grave 
yard  !  I  won't  stay  here  alone  !  "  They  were 
standing  at  the  foot  of  the  rough  wooden 
steps  leading  up  to  the  church  door. 

"  Pooh  !  Don't  be  afraid  of  tombstones," 
he  scoffed  ;  but  he  was  conscious  of  a  little 
shiver  in  his  back.  "  They  can't  bite,  you 
know.  Besides,  all  churches  have  grave 
yards  and  crypts  and  —  " 


THE.  ROAD   TO    PARADISE     109 

"  This  one  has  no  crypt,"  she  announced 
positively.  "  Goodness,  I  'm  mud  up  to  my 
knees  and  rain  down  to  them.  Why  does  n't 
he  come  ?  " 

"  I  '11  give  the  signal ;  we  had  to  arrange 
one,  you  know,  for  the  sake  of  identity." 
He  gave  three  loud,  guttural  coughs.  A 
dog  in  the  distance  howled  mournfully,  as  if 
in  response.  Anne  crept  closer  to  his  side. 

"  It  sounded  as  if  some  one  were  dying," 
she  whispered.  "  Look,  is  n't  that  a  light  ? 
—  over  there  among  the  gravestones  !  "  A 
light  flickered  for  an  instant  in  the  wretched 
little  graveyard  and  then  disappeared  as 
mysteriously  as  it  came.  "It 's  gone  !  How 
ghostly  !  " 

"Extraordinary!  I  don't  understand.  By 
Jove,  it 's  beginning  to  rain  again.  I  'm  sure 
to  have  tonsilitis.  I  feel  it  when  I  cough." 
He  coughed  again,  louder  than  before. 

Suddenly  the  steady  beam  of  a  dark  lan 
tern  struck  their  faces  squarely  ;  a  moment 
later  the  cadaverous  Mr.  Hooker  was  climb 
ing  over  the  graveyard  fence. 

"  Am  I  late  ?  "  he  asked,  as  he  came 
forward. 

"  I    say,    turn    that    beastly     light     the 


no 


THE    FLYERS 


other  way,"  complained  Windomshire,  half 
blinded.  "  I  thought  no  one  but  robbers 
carried  dark  lanterns." 

"  The  darker  the  deed,  the  darker  the 
lantern,"  said  Mr.  Hooker,  genially.  "  Good- 
evening,  madam.  Are  we  the  only  ones 
here  ? "  He  was  very  matter-of-fact  and 
business-like ;  Anne  loathed  him  on  the 
instant. 

"  We  're  all  here  but  the  minister  and  the 
other  witness.  I  '11  cough  again  —  although 
it  hurts  me  to  do  it." 

He  coughed  thrice,  but  instead  of  a  re 
sponse  in  kind,  three  sharp  whistles  came 
from  the  trees  at  the  left. 

"What's  that?"  he  gasped.  "Has  he 
forgotten  the  signal  ?  " 

"  Maybe  he  is  trying  to  cough,"  said 
Hooker,  "  and  can't  do  any  better  than 
wheeze.  It's  this  rotten  weather." 

"  No,  it  was  a  whistle.  Good  Heavens, 
Anne  —  it  may  be  detectives." 

"  Detectives  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Hooker, 
hoarsely.  "  Then  this  is  no  place  for  me. 
Excuse  me,  I  '11  just  step  around  the  cor 
ner/'  As  he  scurried  off,  he  might  have 
been  heard  to  mutter  to  himself:  "  They've 


THE   ROAD    TO    PARADISE     in 


been  hounding  me  ever  since  that  job  in  the 
Cosgrove  cemetery.  Damn  'em,  I  wonder  if 
they  think  I  'm  up  here  to  rob  the  grave  of  one 
of  these  jays."  From  which  it  may  be  sus 
pected  that  Mr.  Hooker  had  been  employed 
in  the  nefarious  at  one  time  or  another. 

"  Detectives,  Harry  ?  "  gasped  Anne. 
"  Why  should  there  be  detectives  ?  We  're 
not  criminals." 

"  You  can't  tell  what  Mrs.  Thursdale 
may  have  done  when  she  discovered  — 
Hello  !  There  's  a  light  down  the  road  ! 
'Gad,  I  '11  hide  this  lantern  until  we  're  sure." 
He  promptly  stuck  the  lantern  inside  his 
big  raincoat  and  they  were  in  darkness  again. 
A  hundred  yards  to  the  left  a  light  bobbed 
about,  reminding  them  of  childhood's  will- 
o'-the-wisp.  Without  a  word  Windomshire 
drew  her  around  the  church,  stumbling  over 
a  discarded  pew  seat  that  stood  against  the 
wall.  Groaning  with  pain,  he  urged  her  to 
crouch  down  with  him  behind  the  seat.  All 
the  while  he  held  the  umbrella  manfully  over 
her  devoted  head. 

Voices  were  heard,  drawing  nearer  and 
nearer  —  one  deep  and  cheery,  the  other  high 
and  querulous. 


112 


THE    FLYERS 


"It --it --oh,  Harry,  it's  that  Mr. 
Derby!"  she  whispered.  "I'd  know  his 
voice  in  a  thousand." 

c  The  devil  !  "  he  whispered  intensely, 
gripping  her  hand. 

Mr.  Derby  was  saying  encouragingly : 
"There  is  the  church,  Mr.  Van  Truder. 
Brace  up.  We  seem  to  be  the  first  to 
arrive." 

:e  It's  much  farther  away  than  you  think," 
growled  Mr.  Van  Truder.  "  I  can't  see  the 
lights  in  the  window." 

'  There  are  no  lights  yet.  We  are  ahead 
of  them.  I  '11  try  the  door." 

^  The  young  minister  kicked  the  mud  from 
his  shoes  as  he  went  up  the  steps  with  the 
lantern.  He  tried  the  door  vigorously,  and 
then,  holding  the  lantern  high,  surveyed  the 
surroundings.  Mr.  Van  Truder,  bundled  up 
like  a  motorman,  stood  below  shivering  — 
but  with  joy. 

c  This  is  a  great  night  for  an  affair  of  this 
kind,"  he  quaked.  "  By  George,  I  feel 
twenty  years  younger.  I  believe  I  could 
turn  handsprings." 

"  I  would  n't  if  I  were  you.      Don't  for 
get  your  somersault  over  that  log  back  there, 


THE    ROAD   TO    PARADISE     113 

and  your  splendid  headspin  in  the  mud  pud 
dle.  It 's  past  nine  o'clock.  Joe's  cousin  was 
to  be  here  at  8.45.  Wonder  what  keeps  him. 
Joe  will  be  here  himself  in  a  jiffy.  Dear  me, 
what  a  dreadful  night  they  have  chosen  for  a 
wedding ! " 

Windomshire  whispered  in  horror  to  the 
girl  beside  him  :  "  Good  Lord,  Anne,  they  're 
following  us." 

"  Please,  Harry,"  shewhispered  petulantly, 
"hold  the  umbrella  still.  The  water  from 
the  rainspout  is  dripping  down  my  back." 

"  By  George,  I  wish  Mrs.  Van  Truder 
could  see  me  now,"  came  valiantly  from  the 
old  gentleman  around  the  corner.  "  Say, 
whistle  again."  Derby  gave  three  sharp, 
shrill  whistles.  In  silence  they  waited  a  full 
minute  for  the  response.  There  was  not  a 
sound  except  the  dripping  of  the  rain. 

"  I  'm  afraid  something  is  wrong,"  said 
Derby.  Just  at  that  instant  Windomshire, 
despite  most  heroic  efforts  to  prevent  the 
catastrophe,  sneezed  with  a  violence  that 
shook  his  entire  frame.  "  Sh  !  don't  speak," 
hissed  the  startled  minister.  "  We  are  being 
watched.  That  was  unmistakably  a  sneeze." 

"  I  can't  see  anyone,"  whispered  Mr.  Van 


ii4  THE    FLYERS 

Truder,  excitedly.     "  I  see  just  as  well  in  the 
dark  as  I  do  in  the  light,  too." 

"  Some  one  is  coming.  See  !  There 's  a 
light  down  the  road.  Let 's  step  out  of 
sight  just  for  a  moment." 

Windomshire  sneezed  again,  as  if  to  accel 
erate  the  movements  of  the  two  men. 

"  Hang  it  all  !  "  he  gurgled  in  despair. 
Mr.  Derby  had  blinded  his  lantern  and 
was  hurrying  off  into  the  grove  with  his 
companion. 

"  I  can't  help  laughing,  Harry,"  whispered 
Anne,  giggling  softly.  "  You  sneeze  like 
an  elephant." 

"  But  an  elephant  has  more  sense  than 
to  sneeze  as  I  do.  I  knew  I  'd  take  cold. 
Anne,  they're  after  us.  It 's  old  Mrs.  Van 
Truder's  work.  What  are  they  up  to  ?  " 

"  Whatever  it  is,  dear,  they  're  just  as 
much  mystified  as  we  are.  Did  you  hear 
him  whistle?  It  is  a  signal." 

"  I  say,  Anne,  it 's  a  beastly  mess  I  Ve 
got  you  into,"  groaned  he. 

"  Dear  old  Harry,  it  is  but  the  beginning 
of  the  mess  you  're  getting  yourself  into.  I 
love  this  —  every  bit  of  it." 

"  You  're  ripping,  Anne  ;  that 's  what  you 


' 


THE    ROAD    TO    PARADISE     115 

are.  I  —  Great  Scotland  !  Here  comes  the 
head-waiter,  but  we  don't  dare  show  our 
selves.  Did  you  ever  know  such  beastly 
luck?" 

"  There 's  another  man  too,  away  back 
there.  And,  look  !  Is  n't  that  a  light 
coming  through  the  trees  back  of  the 
gravestones  ?  Good  Heavens,  Harry,  we 
can't  be  married  in  a  public  thoroughfare. 
Everybody  is  walking  with  lanterns.  It 's 
awful." 

"  Let 's  go  around  to  the  rear  of  the 
church,"  he  exclaimed  suddenly.  "  Perhaps 
we  can  get  our  brains  to  work  on  a  plan  of 
action.  But,  look  here,  Anne,  no  matter 
who  they  are  or  what  they  want,  I  'm  going 
to  marry  you  to-night  if  I  have  to  do  it  in 
the  face  of  the  entire  crowd." 

As  they  scurried  off  through  the  tall  wet 
grass  to  a  less  exposed  station,  a  solitary  fig 
ure  came  haltingly  through  the  little  gate. 
It  was  the  head-waiter,  and,  as  he  carried  no 
lantern,  he  was  compelled  to  light  matches 
now  and  then  ;  after  getting  his  bearings  he 
would  dart  resolutely  on  for  a  dozen  paces 
before  lighting  another.  Stopping  in  front 
of  the  church  door,  he  nervously  tried  to 


u6 


THE    FLYERS 


penetrate  the  gloom  with  an  anxious  gaze ; 
then,  suddenly  bethinking,  he  gave  three 
timid  little  coughs.  Getting  no  immediate 
response,  he  growled  aloud  in  his  wrath  : 

"  I  Ve  coughed  my  head  off  in  front  of 
every  house  between  here  and  the  hotel,  and 
I  'm  gettin'  darned  tired  of  it.  I  don't  like 
this  business  ;  and  I  never  could  stand  for 
graveyards.  Good  Lord  !  what 's  that  ?  " 

Three  sharp  whistles  came  to  his  alert 
ears,  coming,  it  seemed,  from  the  very  heart 
of  some  grim  old  gravestone.  A  man  strode 
boldly  across  the  yard  from  the  gate,  his 
walk  indicating  that  he  was  perfectly  familiar 
with  the  lay  of  the  land. 

"Who  coughed?"  he  demanded  loudly. 
<c  Is  there  no  one  here  ?  What  the  dickens 
does  it  mean  ?  Joe  Dauntless  !  Where  are 
you  ?  No  fooling  now  ;  my  wife  's  worse, 
and  I  can't  stay  here  all  night."  He  whistled 
again,  and  the  head-waiter  coughed  in  a  be 
wildered  reply.  "  That 's  queer.  Nothing 
was  said  about  coughing." 

"  Hello  !  "  called  the  head-waiter.  "  Is  it 
you,  sir?  " 

Joe  Dauntless's  cousin  held  his  lantern 
on  high  and  finally  discovered  the  waiter 


THE   ROAD    TO    PARADISE     117 

near  the  pile  of  cordwood,  ready  to  run  at 
a  moment's  notice. 

"Who  are  you?"  demanded  Mr.  Car 
penter. 

"  Gustave.     But  you  ain't  the  man." 

"  I  ain't,  eh  ?  Did  n't  you  whistle  a 
minute  ago  ?  " 

"  I  ain't  supposed  to.  I  cough.  Say,  do 
you  know  if  a  wedding  has  taken  place  here  ? 
I  am  a  witness." 

"  Oh,  I  see.  He  said  he  'd  bring  one. 
Are  you  alone  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  It  feels  like  a  crowd 
every  time  I  cough.  Are  you  the  preacher?  " 

"  No,  I  'm  the  bridegroom's  cousin. 
We  Ve  got  to  get  in  through  a  window.  I 
could  n't  find  my  key.  Would  you  mind 
giving  me  a  leg  ?  " 

"A  leg?  Nothing  was  said  about  legs," 
said  the  waiter,  moving  away.  Carpenter 
laughed. 

"  I  mean  a  boost  up  to  the  window." 

"  Oh  !     Sure." 

"  There  's  one  in  the  rear  I  can  smash. 
We'll  get  inside  and  light  up.  I  can  open 
the  door  from  that  side,  too.  Come  on  — 
follow  me."  They  turned  the  corner  and 


THE    FLYERS 


followed  the  path  so  lately  taken  by  Win- 
domshire  and  Anne.  As  they  came  to  the 
back  of  the  church  they  were  startled  and 
not  a  little  alarmed  by  the  sound  of  sudden 
scurrying  and  a  well-defined  imprecation, 
but  it  was  too  dark  for  them  to  distinguish 
any  one.  While  they  were  trying  to  effect  an 
entrance  through  one  of  the  windows,  other 
mystified  participants  in  the  night's  affairs 
were  looking  on  from  secret  and  divers  hid 
ing-places.  Far  out  in  the  little  grove  Derby 
and  his  old  companion  watched  the  opera 
tions  of  the  church-breakers,  the  sickly  glare 
of  Carpenter's  lantern  as  it  stood  upon  the 
edge  of  the  rain  barrel  affording  an  unholy 
light  for  the  occasion.  Windomshire  and 

o 

Anne,  crouching  behind  a  stack  of  old 
benches,  looked  on  in  amazement.  Mr. 
Hooker,  whose  conscience  was  none  too  easy, 
doubtless  for  excellent  reasons,  peered  forth 
from  behind  a  tall  tombstone.  He  had  ar 
rived  at  the  conclusion  that  he  was  being 
hounded  down  as  a  body-snatcher. 

"  This  is  a  devil  of  a  mess,"  he  muttered 
dolefully.  "  If  they  catch  me  in  this  grave 
yard,  I  '11  have  a  hard  time  proving  an  alibi. 
What  an  idiot  I  was  to  get  into  this  thing! 


i 


THE    ROAD    TO    PARADISE     119 

I  guess  I  '11  get  out  of  it.  He's  got  plenty 
of  witnesses  and  I  've  got  his  ten  dollars." 
He  began  sneaking  off  toward  the  extreme 
west  end  of  the  graveyard,  bent  on  finding 
the  road  to  town.  "  Holy  smoke  !  "  stopping 
short.  "  Another  bunch  of  them  coming  ! 
I  'm  surrounded!"  He  dropped  down  be 
hind  a  weed-covered  mound  and  glared 
straight  ahead.  Almost  directly  in  his  path 
a  lantern  wobbled  and  reeled  slowly,  finally 
bringing  its  bearer  to  the  fence  between  the 
burying-ground  and  the  churchyard.  A 
man  carried  the  light  and  half  carried  the 
form  of  a  woman  besides. 

"  Brace  up,  Nell  dear,"  Mr.  Hooker 
heard  the  newcomer  say  as  tenderly  as  his 
exertions  would  allow.  "  The  worst  is  over. 
Here's  the  church.  Good  Heavens,  just 
think  of  being  lost  in  a  graveyard  !  " 

"  And  climbing  four  fences  and  a  tree," 
moaned  Eleanor  Thursdale.  They  had 
come  up  through  the  graveyard  by  mistake. 

"  It  was  n't  a  tree ;  it  was  a  fence  post 
Great  Scot !  There  's  no  light  in  the  church. 
What 


up 


gate. 


here,    dear, 


Never !  "    she    cried.      They 


I2O 


THE    FLYERS 


climbed  their  fifth  fence,  notwithstanding  the 
fact  that  a  gate  was  near  at  hand. 

"  This  is  an  awful  pickle  I  've  got  you  into. 
You  ought  to  hate  me  —  "  he  was  groaning, 
but  she  checked  him  nobly. 

"  Hush,  Joe,  I  love  it,"  she  cried. 

"  You  just  wait  and  see  how  happy  I  '11 
make  you  for  this."  He  was  about  to  kiss 
her  rapturously,  but  the  act  was  stayed  by 
the  sound  of  a  shrill  whistle,  thrice  given. 
"  There  's  Jim  Carpenter  and  Derby,"  he  ex 
claimed,  and  whistled  in  response.  A  mo 
ment  later  Derby  strolled  up  from  the 
grove,  followed  by  the  chattering  Mr.  Van 
Truder. 

"  That  you,  Joe  ?  " 

"Hello,  Darb.  Good!  Where's  Jim?" 
Some  one  whistled  sharply  off  to  the  left,  and 
then  Jim  Carpenter  came  hurrying  up,  the 
head-waiter  close  behind. 

"  Hello,  Joe.  Say,  has  either  of  you  been 
coughing  ?  "  demanded  Carpenter,  his  hair 
ready  to  stand  on  end. 

"  I  should  say  not,"  said  Joe.  "  I  've 
scarcely  been  breathing." 

"  Then  some  ghost  is  having  a  hemor 
rhage,  "  said  the  head-waiter,  dismally. 


"Hush,  Joe,  I  love  it,"  she  cried 


THE    ROAD    TO    PARADISE     121 


"  Hello,   Mr.    Dauntless,   are  you  a  witness 

5    » 

too  : 

"  Say,  Joe,"  said  his  cousin,  quickly, 
"  there  's  something  strange  going  on.  The 
whole  place  is  full  of  people.  I  went  back 
there  to  open  a  window  and  at  least  two  men 
coughed  —  one  of  'em  sneezed.  We  're  being 
watched.  This  man  says  he  heard  a  woman 
back  there,  and  I  saw  a  funny  kind  of  light 
in  the  graveyard." 

"  Hang  'em  !  "  growled  Joe.  "  We  can't 
stop  now.  Open  up  the  church,  Jim." 

"  Can't.  Lost  my  key.  Is  this  Miss 
Thursdale  ?  Glad  to  meet  you.  The  win 
dow  's  the  only  way  and  they  're  surely 
watching  back  there." 

"  Mamma  has  sent  the  officers  after  us," 
wailed  Eleanor. 

"  Let  's  go  home,"  said  the  waiter.  "  I 
did  n't  agree  to  stay  out  all  night." 

"  Agree  ?  Aha,  I  see.  You  are  a  spy  !  " 
cried  Joe. 

"  A  spy  ?     I  guess  not.     I  'm  a  witness." 

"  It  's  the  same  thing,"  cackled  Mr.  Van 
Truder.  "  You  're  a  spy  witness." 

"  Joe,  is  n't  this  fellow  your  witness  ?  " 
demanded 


122 


THE    FLYERS 


"  I  should  say  not.  Mr.  Van  Truder  is 
mine." 

"By  George,  I  don't  understand  —  " 

"  Never  mind,  Jim,  break  into  the  church 
and  let's  have  it  over  with.  It's  going  to 
rain  again." 

"  Oh,  I  'm  so  tired,"  moaned  the  poor 
bride,  mud-spattered,  wet,  and  very  far  from 
being  the  spick  and  span  young  woman  that 
fashionable  society  knew  and  loved. 

"  By  Jove  !  "  came  suddenly  from  the  dark 
ness,  startling  the  entire  party  — a  masculine 
voice  full  of  surprise  and  —  yes,  consterna 
tion.  Then  there  strode  into  the  circle  of 
light  a  tall  figure  in  a  shimmering  mackintosh, 
closely  followed  by  a  young,  resolute  woman. 

"  Windomshire  !  "  gasped  Dauntless,  leap 
ing  in  front  of  Eleanor,  prepared  to  defend 
her  with  his  life. 

"  Miss  Courtenay,  too,"  murmured  Elea 
nor,  peeking  under  his  arm. 

"  Yes,  by  Jove,"  announced  the  harassed 
Englishman,  at  bay,  —  "Windomshire  and 
Miss  Courtenay."  There  was  a  long  silence 
—  a  tableau,  in  fact.  "Well,  why  doesn't 
some  one  say  something  ?  You  've  got  us, 
don't  you  know." 


THE    ROAD    TO    PARADISE     123 

Eleanor  Thursdale  was  the  first  to  find 
words.  She  was  faint  with  humiliation,  but 
strong  with  the  new  resolve.  Coming  forth 
from  behind  Dauntless,  she  presented  herself 
before  the  man  her  mother  had  chosen. 

"  So  you  have  found  me  out,  Mr.  Win- 
domshire,"  she  said  pleadingly,  a  wry  little 
smile  on  her  lips.  "  You  know  all  about  it  ?  " 

"I  —  er  —  by  Jove,  this  is  quite  beyond 
me.  Found  you  out  ?  My  word,  you  don't 
mean  to  say  —  " 

"  I  say,  old  man,"  said  Dauntless,  man 
fully,  "  let  me  explain.  We  've  always  loved 
each  other.  It  is  n't  that  she  — 

"  Hang  it  all,  man,  I  knew  that,"  expostu 
lated  Windomshire.  "  It  was  a  mistake  all 
around.  I  love  Anne,  don't  you  know. 
There  's  no  real  harm  done,  I  'm  sure.  But 
what  puzzles  me  is  this :  why  does  Miss 
Thursdale  persist  in  pursuing  us  if  she  loves 
you  and  does  n't  care  to  marry  me  ?  " 

"The  deuce!  I  like  that,"  cried  Daunt 
less.  "You  'd  better  begin  by  asking  questions 
at  home." 

"  I  take  it,"  interposed  Mr.  Derby,  with 
rare  tact  and  discernment,  "  that  both  of  you 
expect  to  be  married,  but  not  to  each  other 


124 


THE   FLYERS 


as  originally  planned."  Both  Eleanor  and 
Windomshire  signified  eager  affirmation  in 
more  ways  than  one.  "  Then  it  seems  to  me 
a  simple  case  of  coincidence,  which  may  be 
explained  later  on.  Why  discuss  it  now?  I 
am  in  reality  a  minister,  Miss  Courtenay, 
and  I  am  here  to  unite  Miss  Thursdale  and 
Mr.  Dauntless  in  the  holy  bonds  of  matri 
mony.  I  trust  we  may  expect  no  interfer 
ence  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Windomshire  ?  " 

"  Good  Lord  !  No  !  "  almost  shouted 
Windomshire,  clasping  Anne's  hand  in  a 
mighty  grasp.  "  That 's  what  we  are  here  for 
ourselves  —  to  be  married  —  but  the  damned 
parson  has  deceived  us." 

Jim  Carpenter  came  out  of  his  trance  at 
this.  "  Say,  are  you  the  fellow  Rev.  Smith 
was  to  marry  ?  Well,  he  won't  be  here. 
There  's  a  surprise  pound  party  at  his  house 
and  the  whole  town  is  there.  He  could  n't 
leave  to  save  his  soul.  It 's  the  way  he  gets 
his  living." 

"  Oh,  Anne ! "  cried  Windomshire,  in 
real  despair. 

Anne  slipped  into  the  breach  with  rare  old 
English  fortitude.  She  addressed  herself 
sweetly  to  Mr.  Derby. 


THE    ROAD    TO    PARADISE     125 

"  Mr.  Derby,  do  you  remember  saying 
this  afternoon  that  you  'd  do  anything  in  the 
world  for  me?"  Mr.  Derby  blushed  and 
looked  most  unworthy  of  his  calling,  but 
managed  to  say  that  he  would  do  anything 
in  the  world  for  her.  "  Then,  please  take 
the  place  of  the  minister  who  could  n't 
come." 

"  Good  !  "  cried  Dauntless,  almost  dancing. 

"  I  will,  Miss  Courtenay,"  said  Derby. 
Windomshire  grasped  him  by  the  hand, 
speechless  with  joy  and  relief. 

"  I  don't  understand  all  this,"  complained 
Mr.  Van  Truder,  vainly  trying  to  see  the  ex 
cited,  jubilant  quartette.  He  only  knew 
that  they  were  all  talking  at  once,  suddenly 
without  restraint.  "  I  wish  my  wife  were 
here  ;  she  'd  understand." 

Jim  Carpenter  at  last  came  to  his  senses 
and,  dragging  the  head-waiter  after  him,  sped 
to  the  rear  of  the  church.  A  few  minutes 
later  lights  flashed  in  the  windows  and  then 
the  front  door  swung  open.  Carpenter  and 
Gustave  stood  smiling  upon  the  threshold. 

"  Enter  !  "  called  out  the  former.  As  the 
group  quickly  passed  through  the  doorway, 
a  long  figure  climbed  down  from  the  fence 


Jtf 


126 


THE    FLYERS 


hard  by  and  ventured  up  to  the  portal.  It 
was  Mr.  Hooker,  his  face  the  picture  of 
bewilderment. 

"  Well,  this  beats  me  !  "  he  ejaculated, 
leaning  against  the  door  jamb  ;  none  of  those 
at  the  altar  heard  his  remark.  He  stood 
there  listening  until  the  last  words  of  the  ser 
vice  which  united  two  couples  were  uttered. 
Then  he  turned  sorrowfully  away  and  started 
across  the  yard.  The  sound  of  a  wedding 
march  played  upon  the  wheezy  cabinet  organ 
by  Jim  Carpenter  followed  him  into  the 
gloom;  above  the  gasp  of  the  organ  was  lifted 
the  unmistakable  chatter  of  joyous  voices. 

As  he  passed  through  the  gate  a  great  ve 
hicle  rolled  up  and  stopped.  It  was  drawn 
by  two  steaming  horses,  and  the  waggon 
lanterns  told  him  that  it  was  the  Somerset 
Hotel  'bus.  "  I  '11  ride  back  with  'em,"  he 
thought  comfortably. 

Some  one  climbed  down  from  the  rear  of 
the  'bus,  assisted  by  two  young  men  in  brass 
buttons.  Mr.  Hooker  made  way  for  a  cor 
pulent,  puffing  old  lady.  She  stopped  in 
front  of  him  and  demanded  in  hot,  strident 
tones  : 

"  Where  is  my  husband  ?  " 


THE   ROAD   TO    PARADISE     127 

"Your  husband?"  repeated  Mr.  Hooker, 
politely.  "  Madam,  you  can  search  me. 
There  's  a  whole  churchful  of  husbands  up 
there." 

"You  —  you  —  "  she  sputtered.  "Am 
I  too  late  ?  Support  me,  you  fools,"  she 
cried  to  the  two  bell-boys.  They  hurried 
across  the  churchyard,  Mr.  Hooker  follow 
ing.  At  the  doorway  she  stopped,  glaring 
hard  at  the  well-lighted  interior.  "  Mr.  Van 
Truder!  Mr.  Van  Truder!  "  she  called  out 
angrily,  but  her  joyful  other  half  did  not  hear 
her.  He  was  trying  at  that  moment  to  organ 
ise  the  company  into  a  wedding  procession. 

"Say,"  said  Mr.  Hooker,  "maybe  you'd 
better  cough  three  times." 


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